“Is there any danger?” asked Tom.
“There is if it hits us,” was the captain’s grim answer. “But I’m not going to let that happen, if I can help it. I’ll go ahead full speed and try to get out of the way. It’s only in a sailing ship, where it’s hard to change the course against a perverse wind, that there is really any great danger, though I have heard of steamers being hit.”
“Oh, Captain Steerit!” cried a woman passenger from the deck below. “Will we be wrecked?”
“Not if I can help it,” was his answer. “There is comparatively no danger. I’ll pass the spout to one side.”
“Then I’m going to try for a picture!” exclaimed Tom. “Will it last long enough for me to get my camera?” he asked, pausing on his way down.
“It will if you hurry,” answered the commander. “And I may be able to give you a chance to get a rare view.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’m going to try to break that spout with a cannon shot. I’ve read of such things being done, but I never tried it. I’ve got a gun on board, for saluting some of the owners at the islands where I trade, and I’ll have my gunner try a shot at it.”
“Great!” cried Tom. “If I can get a view of the spout, as the cannon ball hits it, that will be a rare one.”