us, we may be taken off to-day or to-morrow. If not we may be here a
week, or--" Tom did not finish. He stood in a listening attitude.

There was a rumbling sound, and the earth seemed again to tremble.
Then there came a great splash in the water at the foot of a tall,
rugged cliff about a quarter of a mile away. A great piece of the
precipice had fallen into the ocean.

"I thought that was another earthquake coming," said Mr. Damon, with
an air of relief.

"So did I," admitted Mr. Fenwick.

"It was probably loosened by the shock, and so fell into the sea,"
spoke Tom.

Their momentary fright over, the castaways proceeded to get their
breakfast. Tom soon had water boiling on the gasolene stove, for he
had rescued a tea-kettle and a coffee pot from the wreck of the
kitchen of the airship. Shortly afterward, the aroma of coffee
filled the air, and a little later there was mingled with it the
appetizing odor of sizzling bacon and eggs, for Mr. Fenwick, who was
very fond of the latter, had brought along a supply, carefully
packed in sawdust carriers, so that the shock had broken only a few
of them.

"Well, I call this a fine breakfast," exclaimed Mr. Damon, munching
his bacon and eggs, and dipping into his coffee the hard pilot
biscuit, which they had instead of bread. "We're mighty lucky to be
eating at all, I suppose."

"Indeed we are," chimed in Mr. Fenwick.

"I'm awfully sorry the airship is wrecked, though," spoke Tom. "I
suppose it's my fault. I should have turned back before we got over
the ocean, and while the storm was not at its height. I saw that the
wind was freshening, but I never supposed it would grow to a gale so
suddenly. The poor old WHIZZER--there's not much left of her!"

"Now don't distress yourself in the least," insisted Mr. Fenwick.
"I'm proud to have built a ship that could navigate at all. I see
where I made lots of mistakes, and as soon as I get back to
Philadelphia, I'm going to build a better one, if you'll help me,
Tom Swift."

"I certainly will," promised the young inventor.

"And I'll take a voyage with you!" cried Mr. Damon. "Bless my
teaspoon, Tom, but will you kindly pass the bacon and eggs again!"

There was a jolly laugh at the eccentric man, in which he himself
joined, and the little party felt better. They were seated on bits
of broken boxes taken from the wreck, forming a little circle about
the gasolene stove, which Tom had set up on the beach. The wind had
almost ent