"Put your helm over there!" roared a voice out of the blackness—a harsh, hoarse voice, that cut the storm like a vessel's siren.
Jack, only half-conscious of what he was doing, spun the spokes over. He was just in time. Dead ahead of their craft a larger vessel loomed up for an instant. She carried no lights, and a glimpse was all Jack had of her. But it gave him a clue as to what had occurred. In the darkness they must have collided with the lightless craft, and only his quickness in getting the helm over had averted a second collision, which might have proved disastrous.
"What is it? What has happened?" came a voice behind him.
It was the professor. The binnacle light shone on his gaunt, alarmed features. Close behind him pressed Sandy.
"Hoots, toots!" exclaimed the Scotch lad. "What was the gr-r-r-r-and bo-o-omp?"
"We collided with a vessel without lights," gasped Jack, "and—and——" his voice choked up, "Tom's gone."
"Gone!" exclaimed the professor. "Overboard, you mean?"
Jack mournfully replied in the affirmative. But he launched into action, too.
The switch that controlled the Sea Ranger's powerful searchlight was handy to the wheel. A quick twist of his wrist, and a white shaft of light from the powerful reflector cut through the night like a scimitar of flame.
With his hand on the controlling lever, Jack swept the beams hither and thither through the blackness. In the meantime, Sandy had cut loose one of the two patent buoys that were lashed to the little craft's bridge. He cast it out from the Sea Ranger's side with a powerful impetus.