ace of that slate-gray, storm-beaten sea,
to the misty horizon. Nowhere was it broken by land or ship.

Charlie fell to adjusting his rheostat and switches.

It seemed that the gray ocean moved swiftly beyond the window. Vast
stretches of it raced below our eyes. Faint black stains of steamer
smoke appeared against the blue-gray horizon and swept past. Then land
appeared--a long, green-gray line. We had a flash of a long coast that
unreeled in endless panorama before us. It was such a view as one
might get from a swift airplane--a plane flying thousands of miles per
hour.

The Golden Gate flashed before us, with the familiar skyline of San
Francisco rising on the hills behind it.

"San Francisco!" Charlie cried. "This is the Pacific we've been
seeing. Let's find the _Valhalla_. We might be able to see Virginia!"

* * * * *

The coast-line vanished as he manipulated his instruments. Staring
into the circle of shining blue mist, I saw the endless ocean racing
below us again. We picked up a pleasure yacht, running under bare
poles.

"I didn't know there was such a storm on," Charlie murmured.

Other vessels swam past below us, laboring against heavy seas.

Then we looked upon an ocean whipped into mighty white-crowned waves.
Rain beat down in sheets from low dense clouds; vivid violet
lightnings flashed before us. It seemed very strange to see such
lightning and hear not the faintest whisper of thunder--but no sound
came from anything we saw through the blue-rimmed window in space.

"I hope the _Valhalla_ isn't in weather like this!" cried Charlie.

In a few minutes a dark form loomed through the wind-riven mist.
Swiftly it swam nearer; became a black ship.

"Only a tramp," Charlie said, breathing a sigh of relief.

It was a dingy tramp steamer, her superstructure wrecked. Her fires
seemed dead. She lay across the wind, rolling sluggishly, threatening
to sink with every monstrous wave. We saw no living person aboard her;
she seemed a sinking derelict. We made out the name _Roma_ on her
side.

Charlie moved his dials again.

In a few minutes the slender prow of another great steamer came
through the sheets of rain. It was evidently a passenger vessel. She
seemed limping along, half wrecked, with mighty waves breaking over
her rail.

Charlie grew white with alarm. "The _Valhalla_!" he gasped. "And she's
headed straight for that wreck!"

In a moment, as he brought the liner