"Can't you?" asked Alice.
"Yes, I suppose I could make some views."
A few hundred feet of film were exposed by one of the operators, but the pretended shipwreck would need to be taken from a small boat, and the sea was too rough to admit of that.
Then the storm, that had given them a brief respite, began again, worse than before. The schooner was tossed about like a toy, and the mizzenmast was sprung so that no sail could be rigged on it.
Then when a great wave struck the craft, washing over her from stem to stern, the work of the ocean and the storm elements seemed completed. The Mary Ellen staggered under the blow like some living thing, and she did not rise to it as buoyantly as she had before.
Jack Jepson came rushing up from below.
"We're leaking fast!" he cried. "We'd better take to the boats, Captain Brisco! The pumps won't work!"
"The boats! Nonsense!" the captain cried. "We'll ride it out here. The schooner is all right!"
"I tell you she's sinking!" yelled Jack. "We must take to the boats."
"What? Do you dare give orders in my face!" stormed Captain Brisco. "This is mutiny, sir! This is mutiny! I'll put you in irons!" and with raised fist he started toward the old sailor.