Soon the regular evening concert began. The voices of the sailors were stilled; under the spell of the music many heads drooped, many tired eyes closed for a few moments of delicious sleep.
“Isn’t it glorious?” breathed Dan.
“It might be if things weren’t so upside down,” complained Sam.
“What’s the matter? Aren’t you feeling well?”
“I have felt better,” answered Sam in a husky voice. “I guess I’ll take a walk.”
His walk did not last long. Sam took a turn once across the deck, then settled down beside his companion, holding his head between his hands.
“Why, Sam, are you really ill?” questioned Dan, his voice full of concern.
“Ill? I think I’m going to die. Ugh!” Sam stretched out on the deck flat on his back.
“Sam Hickey, I believe you are seasick,” exclaimed Dan.
Sam’s only answer was a long-drawn moan.