down behind the shelter of the half-cabin.

It seemed as though the storm had begun, had halted in its purpose, or
had gone off momentarily in some other direction, and was now headed
back, to sweep destruction down on those aboard the _Mary Ellen_, and
the two in the motorboat.

But where was the _Mary Ellen_?

That was a question Russ and Mr. Sneed asked of themselves over and over
again as they drove into the very teeth of the storm. They had to head
into it, as in the small boat no other course would have been safe.
Fortunately the _Ajax_ was built dory-fashion, with high bow and stern,
after the pattern of the skiffs in which the fishermen of the New
Foundland banks go out in heavy weather.

"What are you going to do?" asked Mr. Sneed, as Russ increased the speed
of the engine, so that the small craft fairly tore up the inclined hills
of green waters, which the waves represented, and slid down them with
sickening speed on the other slope.

"I'm going to keep on until I find her--find the schooner," Russ said,
grimly. "That's all we can do. But I can't understand why they don't
show a light."

"Maybe they're having troubles of their own," suggested the actor.

"Well, they could shout, so as to let us know where to steer," Russ went
on, rather provoked.

"We could do that ourselves," Pepper Sneed said.

"Do what?" asked Russ, hardly conscious of what he was saying, for just
then a heavy wave threatened to swamp the dory, and it required skillful
handling to keep her from being swamped.

"We could yell," suggested Mr. Sneed. "Come on, give 'em a call!"

Russ agreed to this, and, standing up, so their voices would carry
better, and bracing themselves against the tumbling, swaying motion of
the craft, they sent out a cry for aid--and yet not so much a cry for
aid, as they were not yet in distress, but a cry for direction.

"If I could only see where to steer," Russ exclaimed, when they had
paused in their yelling, well-nigh exhausted, "it wouldn't be so bad!
But I can't see a thing. It's getting darker every minute. I never saw
such a funny storm."

"It's coming up all right," declared the actor. "Going to blow great
guns soon."

"It's blowing them now," said Russ, grimly, as he clung to the wheel.
"I can hardly keep her on the course."

"What's the use of steering a course when you don't know whether it's
right or not?" asked the actor.

"Well, I'm not going to give up," Russ said, grimly. "I thin