"I will, if you can hold the wheel alone."

"I can get along for a few minutes. But it's enough to pull a fellow's
arms out by the sockets," concluded Dick.

With extreme caution, for the deck was as wet and slippery as it was
unsteady, Tom made his way to the tiny cabin of the yacht. Here he
found Sam lighting the ship's lanterns, four in number.

"I thought you'd be wanting them," said the youngest Rover. "Is it
letting up, do you think?"

"No; if anything, it is growing worse."

"Don't you want me to help on deck? I hate to stay down here alone."

"You can do nothing, Sam. Dick and I are tending the wheel, and there
is nothing else to be done."

"I might go on the lookout. You can't watch very well from the stern,"
added the youngest Rover, who did not relish being kept back by his
older brothers.

"We can watch good enough. Stay here--it's safer. If the yacht should
swing around--Great Scott!"

Tom Rover broke off short, and with good reason. A strange creaking and
cracking sound had reached his ears, followed by a bump and a jar which
nearly pitched him headlong. Sam was thrown down on his back.