Curlie was sitting up also. He was rubbing his head. When he saw the
girl looking at him he laughed and sang:

"Oh, a sailor's life is a merry life,
And it's a sailor's life for me.

"But say!" he exclaimed suddenly, "what was I doing when things went to
pieces?"

Joe nodded toward the radiophone desk where coils and instruments lay
piled in tangled confusion.

"You were getting a message from out the storm."

"Oh yes, and they gave me their location. It was--no, I haven't it.
Lightning drove it right out of my head. Let me think. Let me
concentrate."

For a full moment there was silence, the silence of the raging sea. Then
Curlie shook his head sadly.

"No, I can't remember," his lips framed the words. It was unnecessary
that he shout them aloud.

"Oh!" exclaimed the girl, and for a moment it seemed that she would
faint again. But she controlled herself bravely.

"We'll find them yet," she forced a brave smile. "It's a comfort just to
know they're still alive, that they're near us, at least not too far
away for us to save them if we can only find them."

Again there was silence. Then Curlie rose unsteadily to his feet.

"Give us a hand here, Joe, old scout," he said. "We'll get this thing
back in shape. There are extra vacuum tubes, tuning-coils and the like,
and plenty of all kinds of wire. We'll manage it somehow--got to."

The girl rose, to sink upon a seat in the corner.

"That's right," shouted Curlie. "You stay right here. We'll be company
for each other. Fellow needs company on a night like this. Besides, I've
got something to say, a lot to say, to you and Joe as soon as the
radiophone is tuned up again. Got to say it before I get killed again,"
he chuckled.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE STORMY PETREL GETS AN ANSWER

The dash of rain which beat like a volley of lead upon the fuselage of
the seaplane as she rose above the spray lasted but a moment.

"Just a warning of what's to come," Vincent called through the tube.
"Think we could run away from the storm?"

"We'd just get lost on the ocean and not know what location to
radiophone," grumbled his companion. "Better keep circling. We can get
above the storm if we must."

Once more the weary circle was commenced. With little hope of sighting
land, Vincent still fixed his gaze upon the black waters below, while he
sent the flash of light, now far to the right, now to the left, and now
straight beneath them.

"Someone must have caugh