“Aye, aye, sir!” came the answer.
“Then let their husbands or other relatives join them.”
The men involved in this order moved forward over the sloping and heaving deck, in the glare of the signal fires, and took their places.
“Tom! Tom Fairfield!” cried little Jackie. “I want you with me!”
“Yes, Tom, you might as well go,” said the captain, holding out his hand to our hero. “Good-by.”
“But, aren’t you coming? There’s lots of room.”
“I’ll come—last,” was the grim answer. “Go! And good-luck to you. I’ve put a trusty man in charge of that boat.”
Our hero sprang toward the lifeboat which was all ready to be lowered at a favorable moment. But Tom Fairfield was not destined to enter her.
At that moment, and with a suddenness that took them all unprepared, there came another frightful blow against the side of the ill-fated Silver Star. She heeled over, and in such a manner that the lifeboat with its load of shrieking women and pale-faced men overhung the sea.
“Lower away!” shouted some one.