termined to push in,
although the wind was dropping fast.

The darkness fell before he had cleared Lovel's Island, and the sky
being overcast he had only the harbour lights to guide him.
Nevertheless he kept on, though it was little better than feeling his
way.

The schooner thus crept up as far as Governor's Island, and the city
lights began to come into view.

"Ah!" exclaimed Captain Afleck, bringing the palm of his hand down with
a smart slap on his thigh as he stood at the wheel, "we'll make the
dock to-night yet, even if I have to hail a tug to tow me in."

He had hardly spoken when suddenly there loomed up on the port side the
dim form of a huge steamer bearing down on the schooner at full speed;
and then it flashed upon the captain that in his eagerness to get into
port he had omitted to put up the regulation lights.

There was no time to do it now. The only chance of escaping a
collision was to go off on the other tack. Round spun the wheel, and
swiftly the men sprang to the sails. But the schooner refused to
answer her helm for lack of steerage way, and lay almost motionless
right in the steamer's path.

Leaping upon the bulwarks, Captain Afleck shouted with all his
strength,--

"Ahoy, there! Keep away, or you'll run us down!"

But even if his warning had been heard, it was too late to heed it; and
a minute later, with a tremendous shock, the steamer crashed into the
schooner just abaft of the fore-chains.

CHAPTER V.

ON BOARD THE "MINNESOTA."

When the crash came, Terry was standing at the stern, a little in front
of Captain Afleck, who held the wheel. The shock hurled him to the
deck; but he instantly leaped to his feet again, and as he did so the
captain's voice rang out,--

"Jump for the martingale, Terry! quick!"

The great bowsprit of the colliding vessel overhung the shattered and
sinking schooner like the outreaching branch of a tree. It offered the
one possible chance of escape from death. Already two of the sailors
were frantically striving for it. Terry had not lost his wits despite
the suddenness of the catastrophe. Just before him were the
main-shrouds, tense and taut with the tremendous strain upon them.
Springing into these, he climbed hand over hand with a celerity born of
frequent practice on vessels lying at the docks, until he reached the
angles made by the shackling of the martingale stays to the
dolphin-striker of the other vessel. Into these he put his fe