ear, turned in the same direction.

"There's some one who doesn't mind letting their whereabouts be
known," he whispered, after a moment's pause. "Can't you hear
a hooter?"

Crawshay listened but shook his head.

"Can't hear a thing," he declared laconically. "I've a cold in my head
coming on, and it always affects my hearing."

Jocelyn Thew stepped on tiptoe across the deck as far as the rail and
returned in a few minutes.

"There's a steamer calling, away on the starboard bow," he announced.
"She seems to be getting nearer, too. I wonder we don't alter
our course."

"Well, I suppose it's the captain's business whether he chooses to
answer or not," Crawshay remarked. "I shall go down to my cabin. This
gazing at nothing gets on my nerves."

Jocelyn Thew returned to his damp vigil. Leaning over the wet wooden
rail, he drew a little diagram on the back of an envelope and worked
out some figures. Then he listened once more, the slight frown upon
his forehead deepening. Finally he tore up his sketch and made his way
to the doctor's room. The doctor was seated at his desk and glanced up
enquiringly as his visitor entered.

"I just looked in to see how young Robins was getting on," Jocelyn