more terrified with each
passing hour, sailed all day without making any land or being able to
hail a single vessel. By nightfall they were enveloped in a thick fog,
the wind had whipped round and was blowing half a gale from the
eastward, a heavy sea was running, and most of the boys were so
prostrated by sea-sickness that they no longer cared whether they lived
or died. Just before dark Will Rogers and little Cal Moody, who were the
only ones not affected by sea-sickness, lowered all the sails, and
managed clumsily to secure them.

None of the Rangers had ever dreamed of anything so awful as the long
hours of darkness that followed, during which their craft drifted,
rolling and pitching furiously, and utterly at the mercy of wind and
wave. At length, after what seemed an eternity of darkness and terror,
Will Rogers, who, with little Cal cuddled close beside him, was half
dozing with utter weariness in the cockpit, was roused into a sudden
activity by the unmistakable boom of breakers close at hand.

"Hello, fellows!" he yelled, springing to his feet, "tumble up here in a
hurry and make sail or we'll be lost. We're almost on the rocks now!"

This thrilling summons was sufficient to banish even sea-sickness, and a
few minutes later the yacht, under mainsail and jib, was slowly drawing
away from the dangerous though still unseen reef.

Some hours afterwards a hot sun, scattering the sullen fog-bank, poured
its cheery rays over the haggard-looking Rangers, who, in various
attitudes of utter misery, occupied the wet decks of the yacht. All at
once they sprang to their feet with shouts of dismay and terror, for,
out from a low hanging bank of mist, that was slowly rolling away
astern, there came a flash as of lightning, and the thunderous roar of a
heavy gun. At the same moment, as though it had been cloven in twain by
the shot, the fog opened and a United States man-of-war, snow-white and
gleaming in the sunlight, loomed up directly behind them, terrible and
yet grandly beautiful in its on-rushing majesty.

The Rangers gazed at this bewildering apparition in speechless terror,
fully expecting that another minute would see them run down and crushed
like an egg-shell. As the monster dashed up abreast of them, at the same
time slackening her speed with reversed engines, an officer, hailing
from the bridge, demanded to know the yacht's name.

"_Whisper!_" shouted Will Rogers, recovering somewhat his self-control.

"Wha