"In that case we can't hit anything. I am thinking—"
"Back her!" yelled Dick, through the speaking tube, and then jingled the bell.
Tom leaped for the engine and reversed it. There was a pause, and they felt the steam yacht swing half around. Then, after a wait, Dick ordered the speed ahead.
"What was wrong?" asked Tom, at the tube.
"Light right ahead," was the answer. "We cleared it by fifty feet.
But I was scared, I can tell you that."
"What kind of a light?"
"A steamer—tramp, I reckon. She's way behind now."
Sam ran on deck to get a view of the stranger, but the fury of the storm shut out the sight.
"I suppose you didn't see much of her, Dick," he said, going into the wheelhouse.
"I saw enough," was the grim response. "I thought we were going to have a smashup sure, and I reckon the other pilot thought the same."