“Well, I’m going to leave my trunk unlocked, after this, so as to save them the trouble of smashing it if they should come in here again,” Jack remarked sagaciously, taking a pointer from what his chum had told him.
Later on, when at the table, they found that the company seemed unusually quiet. Seldom was a laugh heard, and serious faces were the rule rather than the exception. Though those aboard might be reckoned brave men and women, or they would not have been there, the near approach to a dreaded peril was beginning to get on their nerves.
Tom decided to lounge in the cabin after the meal, and for a time Jack was willing to stay there also. But he seemed very restless, and was up and down many times inside of the next hour.
“I think I’ll go outside, and take a few turns,” he finally told Tom. “I feel stupid after eating so much supper, and a bracing air would serve as a tonic. See you later, Tom.”
“Well, don’t forget what we were talking about,” the other warned him. “It’s as dark as a pocket out there, because they won’t allow lights, you know, and after all, the stars don’t count for much. Keep away from the rail, Jack!”
“I will,” the other assured him as he turned away.
After that Tom continued to keep his attention fixed to some extent on the story he was reading. Now and then he looked around, and noted that the passengers seemed loth to retire to their several quarters. They clustered in little groups in the saloon, where the lights burned dimly and the openings were duly covered with cloth, so as to prevent any escape of the scanty illumination.
Any one could easily see that their subdued spirits indicated a pervading fear lest at any minute they should hear loud excited cries, to be quickly followed by a frightful explosion that would tear a great hole in some part of the big steamer and let the sea rush in with greedy force.
Jack had been gone some little while and Tom looked for him to come inside again. In fact, he should really have done so already, his chum felt, unless he had by chance met some entertaining person outside, who had interested him so that the passage of time had been unnoticed.
Tom found himself wondering whether Bessie Gleason could have gone outside. He had noticed her looking suggestively toward Jack while at the table every time her gloomy-faced guardian turned away to speak to the neighbor on his left. Tom somehow conceived the impression that the girl wanted to see Jack again in private. Perhaps she had something further to communicate, some fresh warning to give Jack; and if she could slip away from Mr. Potzfeldt and pass out to the promenade deck in order to join Jack there—