Orders were being given, and the whistles were hoarsely blowing. Both vessels were still falling off. Some one on the tug bellowed frantically through a big trumpet.
"What was that?" Inza asked.
"Tows!" said Frank. "Something about tows!"
The tug and the steamer did not strike, though they grazed each other so closely that a collision seemed unavoidable. Then there was more bellowing through trumpets and more whistling, and Frank felt the Merry Seas tremble under him as her engines were reversed. He knew not what to expect.
Crash!
The big tug, Gladiator, had a string of heavily laden barges in tow. Into one of these barges, in spite of every effort to prevent it, the bow of the Merry Seas crashed with terrible force. It was as if a horse should rush headlong against a stone wall.
The shock was terrific. Merriwell heard a sound of smashing timbers and snapping iron. He was pitched violently from his feet as the bow of the Merry Seas was forced downward by the collision. He felt himself flying through the air. Then he struck the water, and went down, down, down!
But Frank did not lose consciousness. And as he came to the surface, he supported himself by a gentle motion of his hands and feet, and tried to look about. He knew how great was his peril. But his thoughts were not wholly of himself. He thought of Inza and Elsie, of Hodge and his other friends. What had befallen them? Had they, too, been hurled into the sea by that awful shock? If so, there could be little doubt that some of them, if not all, would be drowned.
He shouted for assistance, and heard a hoarse whistle not far away. He could see nothing, for the fog was as impenetrable as a blanket He began to swim toward the sound. He could not tell whether the whistle was that of the tug or the Merry Seas or of some other vessel. Again he sent up a call for help. The water was cold and his clothing heavy. He was thinking of trying to get out of his shoes and outer coat, when he heard a human cry not far away.
"Help! help!" some one called.