When this task had finally been accomplished, however, Neal said as he opened the door after some trouble, owing to the erratic movements of the yacht:
"I'm going on deck. It can't be much worse there, and it wouldn't be a bad idea to see what the ocean looks like in a gale."
"I'll go too: but don't let's venture out of the companion-way, for the waves must be making a clean sweep over the decks."
When the boys entered the cabin no one was to be seen save the surly steward who visited them the night previous, and in reply to Neal's question he said:
"Your father left word that he wasn't to be called. It wouldn't be much use for him to turn out, because we can't set the table in such a rumpus."
"What are we to do for breakfast?"
"The same as Mr. Walters did, get a cup of coffee and a hard-tack; that'll go way ahead of nothin' if you're very hungry."
"We can go into the galley when we want a bite," Neal replied, and then he led the way up the narrow stairs where, through the half-opened hatch, it was possible to get a view of the raging waters.
Perhaps it would have been better, so far as their peace of mind was concerned, not to have ventured out, for the scene was anything rather than reassuring.
Standing there and looking forward the boys could see a huge wall of water dead ahead bearing down upon the yacht as if to swamp her, and at the moment when it appeared as if the final stroke had come she would lurch to leeward, presenting her side to the wave, rising on the succeeding one and shivering on its crest as if shaking the spray from her shrouds, after which came the downward plunge that caused the boys to hold their breath in fear.