A strange, dreamy sort of feeling crept over him. He felt the water closing over his head. Then, suddenly he seemed to be dragged skyward. His senses swam and he knew nothing more. When he opened his eyes, it was daylight. He lay in the bottom of a small boat that was being tossed about like a chip on the rough sea which, although it had moderated to some extent, was still running high.
“Where on earth am I and what has happened?” he wondered in the first few seconds of returning consciousness. “I remember that terrible feeling that all was over, that I was drowning and——”
“Thank goodness you’re all right again, old fellow.”
“Bill!” cried the young wireless man wildly, as he recognized the voice, “is that really you or your ghost? Am I dreaming or drowned?”
“Neither, I hope,” rejoined Bill, helping his chum to raise himself in the bottom of the boat, “but you came mighty near being the latter if I hadn’t providentially come within reach of you just in time.”
“Thank heaven you did,” replied Jack fervently, “but tell me, how did it all happen? I don’t understand. The last I can recollect is going under and thinking that all was over.”
“Which must have been just about the time I grabbed you by the hair and got you on board somehow,” continued Bill. “I don’t know how I did it, but I succeeded.”
“But how did you come to be in the boat?” Jack wanted to know.
“Well, you see when we were both swept out of that cabin—I guess the trawler must have been broken in half by the explosion,—when we were both swept out, I didn’t know what was happening and just struck out blindly.”
“Same here,” observed Jack. “I was looking for a bit of wreckage to float on, but none came my way.”