Frank went to the forward bull's-eyes and looked out. It was getting daylight.
"You've got another guess coming, Sammy," he said. "We're still out on the ocean, it looks to me. We couldn't be at a dock and be moving this way."
The motor boat in which they had so strangely been blown to sea was still heaving up and down, though by the silence outside the boys realized that the storm was over.
"Well, we're certainly up against something," insisted Sammy. "Listen to it bump!"
There was no doubt about this. The motor boat was grinding and bumping up against some object it had collided with on the ocean. And still the boys, from the cabin windows, could see nothing.
"Maybe," began Sammy, as his eyes grew big with wonder, "maybe it's a whale!"
"A whale!" cried Bob. "Listen to him, would you! That's as bad as the pirate gold."
"It sure is," agreed Frank, as he began to dress.
"Pooh!" exclaimed Sammy. "It might happen just the same, and if we find a dead whale outside you fellows won't be so ready to laugh!"