hem up! The whole ship seems to have the
glooms--even the captain; he wouldn't speak a word to me at
breakfast."

"I could wake 'em up," said Mr. Masterson emphatically. "I could wake
the whole ship up, and the captain too, and the lootenant, and the
quartermaster, and the squingerneer, and the crew of the _Nancy Brig_,
if I wanted to--and your Uncle Admiral Elephant here, asleep in the
steamer-chair."

"Why, sure enough, there he is!" cried Miss Dorn. "He's got the
glooms, too; he says he always gets 'em in foggy weather at sea." She
turned and touched Mr. Masterson lightly on the arm. "Wake him up!"
she said, her eyes twinkling.

"I hardly dare."

"Oh, go on! I don't believe you can. How would you do it?"

"How would I do it? Why, just this way." He crumpled his hands
together and blew between the knuckles of his thumbs a low, resonant,
gruffly humming note.

They were hidden now by the bow of the life-boat and were standing
quite close together. They noticed that the figure in the
steamer-chair nearest them had suddenly raised itself a little and
then had sat bolt upright. The old admiral, the mist in his gray
whiskers, turned one ear forward and listened attentively.

The gray wall had grown a little whiter, less opaque; they could see
now the whole length of the ship, out to the lifting stern.

"Oh, go on," tempted the girl; "do it again--louder!"

Mr. Masterson looked at her.

"Oh, _please_ do," she pleaded; "real loud. I dare you to!"

He slowly raised his hands, the thumb-knuckles to his lips again.
There sounded two deep, long-drawn, half-roaring, thrilling notes, for
all the world like steam in the cup of a great metal whistle.

Footsteps, hurried and quick, rushed overhead on the bridge. A hoarse
voice shouted orders. The quartermaster spun the wheel. Now:

"Full speed ahead, the starboard engine! Full speed astern, port!"

"Ay, ay, sir!"

There was the clank-clank of the semaphores, and suddenly two
bursting, answering blasts that hid the huge funnels in a cloud of
feathery white.

The admiral in the steamer-chair threw off his wrappings and leaped to
the rail.

A loud, anxious hail from above: "Lookout, there forward! Can you make
out anything?"

"Oh, see what I've done!" faltered the Silly Ass in a frightened
whisper.

Miss Dorn grasped his shoulder.

There had followed a sudden cry that rose in a diapason of mad fear:

"Vessel ahead! _Star_board your helm, sir! _Star_board you