“Come on, there, look lively, boys,” ordered the officer, and in the hurry of packing the documents back in the square box Ned, for the moment, quite forgot all about what he deemed were the unimportant papers in his blouse.
The light that had flooded the cabin table was suddenly blotted out before they finished. The officer, having rummaged the cabin thoroughly without finding anything more of interest, ordered a quick return to the boat. They gained it just as the tropical squall swept down on them.
“Shove off, quick!” came the command, as a rolling wall of white water rushed toward them.
Just in time the brown arms shoved off the ship’s boat. The next instant she was half buried in a flying smother of white spray, as the squall, in all its fury, struck them.
“Toot! toot! toot!”
It was the siren of the Beale blowing a recall.
“About time,” muttered Ensign Conkling grimly, as the men rowed with all their might to keep from being dashed against the hulk. “If we’d been a few minutes later we’d have lost the boat.”
The wind fairly screamed about the boat, and the rain beat with furious force in their faces, as they pulled through the squall for the distant hull of the destroyer. Before they were half way there, however, the sun was brightly shining again, making their soaked garments steam as they labored. With such fury and suddenness do tropic squalls descend and vanish. But as the men raised their eyes and looked at the sparkling sea, darkened to the northwest, where the just departed squall was hastening onward, an exclamation of surprise burst from the lips of every occupant of the boat.
Not a trace of the derelict was to be seen! She had vanished as utterly as a figure on a slate obliterated by the passing of a wet sponge. The squall had wiped out the Donna Mercedes and sent the poor battered wanderer to the bottom of the sea.
Of course, an officer being on board the boat, the men made no comment at the time, but many were the speculations indulged in during the noon smoke hour concerning the old derelict. The old sailors on board were inclined to think that, weakened as she was by long drifting, her half-opened seams had admitted a great flood of water when the squall struck, causing her instantly to founder.