“That’s a good idea,” said Watson. “This vessel is going to sink head down, and the farther toward the stern we can get, the safer we’ll be, even though we’re on the lowest deck.”
“We may be caught in a trap if we go down an inside stairway,” Guy suggested.
“No danger of that yet,” replied Watson. “The ship isn’t going to sink for another half hour. Come on. Even if we have to jump into the sea, that’s the best place to jump from because it’s the lowest.”
They ran through an entrance and down the nearest stairway. The cabin rooms were deserted. One could almost believe, save for the listing of the ship, that the vessel was tied up at a dock and resting after a long cruise. Down on the main deck near the elevator Guy observed a solitary figure seated on a cushioned bench. An incandescent bulb was burning a few feet away, and Guy recognized the man. It was Gunseyt.
The boy almost gasped for breath; then quickly remembered his recent suspicion that this strangely acting passenger was insane. Now he was fully convinced of the truth of his suspicion, for the fellow seemed to have no interest in saving himself. On the bench beside him, Guy beheld the “wireless shoes” that Gunseyt had taken from the boy’s room, and in his hands he held the tennis racket that Guy had seen in his possession as the fellow was deserting him and his mother. Even as young Burton gazed at him, this remarkable man strained the handle of the racket across one knee and broke it.
Attributing this act to nothing more than the giddy working of a disordered mind, Guy hastened on after his companions. As they passed out onto the open deck, they were greeted by a heavy roaring sound, like a mighty clap of thunder, only it came not from the sky, but from the hold of the ship. Every beam seemed to be shaken loose, and the great vessel trembled as with a terrible convulsion.
“We’re going down—the boilers have exploded—we’re going down!” screamed a terror-stricken passenger, as he rushed to the side of the ship and leaped overboard.
Panic followed.
CHAPTER XIII
S. O. S.
Meanwhile the other “wireless twin” was not asleep even though it was after midnight. Back in Ferncliffe, Walter Burton was a very busy boy.