"Laugh away," declared Ben, "but I do. Any old sailor can tell it."

"But we are two hundred miles at sea," objected Frank.

"Don't make no difference, I smell land," stubbornly repeated the old
sailor.

"Maybe the wind is off shore and that's the reason," suggested Billy.

"A sensible suggestion, youngster," approved Ben. "I guess that is the
reason for there is no island in this part of the world that I ever
heard tell of. But say," he broke off suddenly, "what's come over the
weather. It's getting black and the stars are blotted out. There's a
storm brewing and a bad one, or I'm mistaken."

The boys agreed that there did seem to be every indication of an
approaching tropical disturbance of some kind. The air had suddenly
grown heavy and sulphurous. There was an oppressive quality in it.

"I'm going aft to tell the captain that there's a bad blow coming on
or I'm a Dutchman," exclaimed Ben, starting to scramble to his feet.

"Better hold onto that stay or you'll topple overboard," warned Frank,
as Ben, balancing himself, got into a standing posture.

"What me, an old sailor topple over," shouted Ben, "Not much younker,
why I--"

The sentence was never finished. At that instant the shock that had
aroused Captain Hazzard and terrified the whole ship's company hurled