Slowly the night wore away, and with the coming of morning the storm
abated somewhat, although the waves still lashed angrily around the
_Swallow_. With the first streak of dawn all were on deck,
watching anxiously for some sign of the lumber raft or of Dick.

"Nothing in sight!" groaned Sam, and he was right. The raft had
disappeared completely, and all around them was a dreary waste of
water, with a cloudy sky overhead.

Feeling that he must do something, Aleck Pop prepared a breakfast of
broiled fish and hot coffee, but, when summoned to the repast, both of
the Rovers shook their heads.

"I couldn't eat a mouthful," sighed Sam. "It would choke me."

"We must find Dick first, Aleck," said Tom. "Go ahead yourself and have
breakfast. Don't mind us."

"'Deed, I aint no hungrier dan youse is," replied the colored man
soberly. "But youse had bettah drink sum ob dat coffee, or youse might
cotch a chill." And he made each sip some of the beverage, bringing it
on deck for that purpose.

At half-past seven Tom espied a cloud of smoke on the horizon. "I think
it's a lake steamer," he said to his brother, and he proved to be
right. It was a freighter known as the _Captain Rallow_, running
between Detroit and Buffalo. Soon the steamer came closer and they
hailed her.

"Seen anything of a lumber wreck, with some men on it?" questioned Tom