Small craft, indeed, they seemed, to be trusted on the mighty ocean in a storm, and yet they were staunchly made, and Tom knew that if they could be successfully launched they could weather many a blow.
“Well, if I’ve got to take a chance, I’ve got to,” he reflected. “I’ll get some of my things, and wait for my place in the boat.”
The sound of crying and tearful exclamations could now be heard above the roar of the gale, and Tom recognized the voice of Jackie Case, the little boy whom he had saved.
“Poor little chap!” he mused. “It’s tough on the women and children.”
After that first staggering blow, and the confusion that followed, order seemed to come out of chaos. Captain Steerit had matters well in hand, and he issued his orders calmly. The women were comforted as best they could, and urged to get in the small boats. Some objected, fearing to trust themselves to the craft in such a storm. But the captain insisted.
“Is there really any danger?” asked Mr. Blake, as he stood by one of the starboard boats, his wife clinging to him. Tom was near enough to hear the captain’s answer.
“We have sprung several bad leaks,” was what the commander said, “and the pumps can’t keep the water down. We must have struck a half-submerged wreck, and that further opened the seams which were started by the strain of the storm. I regret to say it, but I fear we must abandon the ship—before it is—too late!”
His solemn words set the women to weeping again, but their relatives tried to calm them. Tom had started for his stateroom, intending to get some of his belongings, when little Jackie spied him.
“Tom! Tom!” he called. “Come with me.”