“I thought he was going up like a balloon for a minute,” laughed Jack. “Now, if we only could identify Schultz, we’d have both of them where we want them.”
“That’s going to be a hard job,” declared Bill. “They don’t go about together. At least, I’ve watched closely, but never saw Radwig talking with anyone on board.”
“No, I guess they keep pretty well under cover for fear of accident. I wish I could have gotten a look at them that night I overheard them talking.”
“Yes, it would have simplified matters a good deal,” Bill admitted, “but, as you say, I don’t think either of them will try to bother us again.”
The day passed uneventfully. In the afternoon they sighted a small British freighter making her way west, and later on overtook a French oil ship bound for Holland. Jack flashed them the latest war news, for they had a small wireless outfit, and in return received the information that two German cruisers were somewhere in the vicinity and that the French ship was in fear of capture at any time.
That evening the wind blew rather hard. A high sea was whipped up by the gale and the St. Mark, big as she was, rolled and pitched violently. It was what sea-faring men would have called “a fresh breeze,” but to the passengers, that is, such of them as were unseasoned travelers, it was a veritable storm.
Jack and Bill rather enjoyed the rough weather, coming as it did after a monotonous calm. After dinner they ascended to the boat deck and paced up and down, chatting for some time. Inside the wireless room Muller was at the key. Now and then, as they passed and repassed, they would exchange a word with him. It was on one of these occasions that Muller hailed them excitedly.
“There’s a ship just wirelessed the S. O. S.!” he exclaimed.
“Great Scott,” cried Jack, “and on a night like this. What’s the trouble?”’
“Don’t know yet. I’m trying to get them again. Notify the captain, will you?”