"Try to make someone hear us. Let's go outside and blow the air whistle and yell. Maybe some passing ship may hear us and take us on board."
"That's a good idea!" exclaimed Sammy. "We'd better go out anyhow, and look to see if the lanterns are all right. We wouldn't want them to go out in the night."
It was still raining, but not so hard, and, putting on the suits of oilskins, the three chums made their way out to the open deck of the Skip, behind the cabin bulkhead.
Here they felt the full force of the wind, and the rain stung into their faces. Also they felt the salty spray of the ocean as it blew over the bow. All about them they could see the white-topped billows, and they looked larger than they had from the cabin. Still the Skip seemed to ride them well.
A glance showed the boys that the lights were all right. They were full of oil—Silas had told them he always kept them ready for instant use.
"Now for a yell!" called Sammy, and the boys called together.
Several times they did this, at the same time blowing the compressed air whistle. But there came no answer, nor could they see the lights of any passing ship. They appeared to be alone on the ocean in the storm and darkness.
They appeared to be alone on the ocean.
"It's no use," said Bob, sadly.