"I'll go below and rouse up Sandy and Professor Podsnap. We want to have everything secure and snug in the cabin before the storm hits us."
Jack found the professor and Sandy deep in a game of chess. One, at least, of the players, namely Sandy, was not sorry to have the game broken up. The professor had his hand poised above his bishop, and was about to make a move that would speedily have checkmated the Scotch youth, when Jack burst into the cabin.
They had been so interested in the game that they had not noticed the increased motion of the Sea Ranger. But, as Professor Podsnap leaped to his feet, when Jack rapidly made them aware of the situation, the bald-headed professor went sliding off to leeward across the cabin floor. An unusually heavy lurch had propelled him, and his speed was great.
To save his angular form from an ignominious tumble, he clutched at the cloth on the cabin table. As might have been expected, it did not prove a substantial support. Before either of the boys could interfere, the professor was in a heap on the floor, struggling blindly to extricate himself from the folds of the drapery which enveloped him. Struggling to check their laughter, the boys rescued him. But their subdued mirth broke into a loud shout as they beheld the professor's countenance. A bottle of ink had been standing on the table, and its contents were now spilled in black rivulets all over the professor's face. His bony features fairly streamed with the black fluid, while his spectacles hung suspended from one ear, in a most undignified manner.
He gazed about him in a bewildered fashion, as he scrambled to his feet. He made such a comical sight that the boys, in spite of their respect for his learning and age, could no longer check their merriment at the ludicrous figure, and they laughed till the tears ran down their cheeks, only stopping to gasp out apologies and then go off into more paroxysms of mirth.
"The sea—as someone has observed—is no respecter of persons," observed the professor, wiping the ink in long smudges with his pocket handkerchief.
"Of parsons, sir?" inquired Sandy.
"Of persons," said the professor solemnly.
"Which reminds me," said Jack, controlling his laughter and rapidly describing to the professor and Sandy the condition of things outside. They at once set to work securing everything movable. The professor didn't even take time to clean his face.
In the meantime, Jack had returned to the deck, passing through the engine room on his way. The Sea Ranger was driven by a powerful forty-horsepower, six-cylinder, gasolene engine. The boy paused only to ascertain that everything was in good order before he rejoined Tom, who stood on a sort of bridge amidships.