By the shifting of the ray, too, he saw that the "Grigsby" was putting about.
"They'll pick me up soon with that light," he told himself.
He did not permit himself to reflect that, if the startled officers and men on the destroyer located him it would be by the sheerest good luck. A human head rolling among waves on a black night is a difficult object to pick up with the searchlight.
Dave now struck out enough to keep his face turned toward the light. He did not attempt to swim toward the destroyer. That long, narrow craft circled about, bringing a second searchlight to bear.
Then Dave saw the blinkers at the foremast head gleam out dully. He even read the signal:
"Lieutenant Commander Darrin overboard. Not yet located."
"That's for Dalzell's benefit," Dave told himself. "Poor old Danny-boy will be wild, and will come steaming over here at full speed. But—confound it! The 'Grigsby' is circling farther south. Evidently Fernald thinks he came back too far on his wake."
Farther and farther south went the destroyer, still sweeping the sea with her two searchlights.
Then Dave beheld, after minutes, another searchlight beam crossing the others, and knew that Dan Dalzell, aboard the "Reed," was making anxious quest for his floating chum.
Both craft, after the "Reed" had once come within a quarter of a mile, began operating further away. There was nothing on the black, roaring waters by which to locate the spot where the "Grigsby" had been when her commander was hurled overboard.