Twenty minutes passed after the "Reed" had come up. There was more talking with the blinkers between the two craft. The destroyers moved in ever widening, and then contracting, circles, but not once did either come near enough to pick up a glimpse of that one face that held occasionally above the rolling waves.
After an hour of searching there was a sorrowful conference between the officers directing the signals on the two destroyers. They decided that every possible effort had been made, and that Lieutenant Commander Darrin was surely lost.
Indeed, at about that time Dave, though he was too far away and dashed with too much spray to read the signals, had about given up hope.
Chilled to the bone by the icy waters, he had at first striven to keep himself warm by such exercise as he could apply. But now he was weakening.
Had it not been for the unusual vigor of his constitution he would have been dead by this time. It was now only a question of a little more time when he must freeze to death.
"All right, Davy-boy," he reflected, almost drowsily. "While you were alive you managed to do a few things! But poor Belle! I hope this isn't going to upset her too much!"
Even the thought of his loved young wife did not stir him much, which showed, indeed, that Darrin was near the end of his vital resources and that he must soon give up his struggle.
After a while the instinct of desperation seized him. With a last summoning of his strength he began fighting for his life.
"I won't freeze!" he cried, between grinding teeth. "I can keep moving a good while yet. I won't allow myself to die here. That would be no better than suicide!"
For a few minutes more he continued to use arms and feet in a determined effort to warm his blood against the numbing cold.