A storm was brewing, that was certain. A
dull, sickly yellow began to obscure the sky, and
the water, from a beautiful blue, turned a slate
color and ran along the sides of the vessel with a
hissing sound as though the sullen waves would
ask nothing better than to suck the craft down
into their depths. The wind, which had been
freshening, now sang in louder tones as it
hummed through the rigging and the funnel stays
and bowled over the receiving conductors of the
wireless.

Sharp commands from the ship's officers
hastened the work of the crew in making things
snug, and life lines were strung along deck for
the safety of such of the passengers as might
venture up when the blow began.

The storm was not long in coming. The
howling of the wind grew louder, flecks of foam
began to separate themselves from the crests of
the waves, and the vessel pitched, rolled and
tossed more violently. At first Tom and his
friends thought they were in for no more than
an ordinary blow, but as the storm progressed,
and the passengers became aware of the anxiety
on the part of the officers and crew, the alarm
spread among them.