So, as I have said, order came out of confusion, but even the order was somewhat confused, at least to the members of the moving picture company. They had been ordered below, and had managed, somehow, to get there, though more than one received bumps and bruises on the pitching, tossing companionway.
"Oh, what an awful storm!" complained Miss Dixon, when they were huddled in the cabin.
"Isn't it awful—terrible!" agreed her companion. "I am frightened to death. We may sink at any minute."
"Oh, not so much danger of that in a wooden ship," said Paul consolingly. He wished the two former vaudeville actresses would try to have a little courage.
"I am so frightened," murmured Miss Pennington. "I wish Captain Brisco would come down here."
"What for?" asked Alice, hardly able to keep the contempt out of her voice.
"So he could tell us if we are in any danger, and what we ought to do," was the selfish answer. "He must save us!"
"He's trying to save the ship!" said Alice, "and you two ought to be ashamed of yourselves at a time like this. Think of poor Russ and Mr. Sneed out in that motorboat all alone!"
"Oh, but they—they're men," faltered Miss Dixon.
"Then why don't you try to be women!" snapped Alice.