"Yes, I know, Roger, but I'd give almost anything to be in Christiania now."
"I can appreciate how you feel. I'd be the same way, if I were in your place, Dave," was the kindly answer of the senator's son.
That night a heavy snowstorm came on, and by morning all around the ship was completely shut out of sight. The steam-pipe had now been mended, but the engines had to be kept down at a low speed for fear of running into some other craft. The foghorn was blown constantly, and occasionally came an answering sound from another vessel. Once they ran close to a three-masted schooner, and then the bell on that ship was rung with a loud clamor.
"That was a narrow escape," said Dave, after the schooner had drifted from sight.
Towards night the snowstorm increased in violence. The wind piped merrily over the deck of the steamer and the boys were glad to remain inside. They turned in early, since there was nothing else to do.
Once they ran close to a three-masted schooner.—
Page 160.
Dave could not sleep at first, but presently dropped into a light doze. When he awoke he sat up with a start. He had heard a strange noise, but now all was silent. He called to Roger, but received no reply. Then he called again and got up and lighted the room.
"Roger, where are you?" he repeated, and then looked toward his chum's berth. To his amazement the berth was made up as if it had never been occupied, and Roger was gone.