With the open sea before him, the captain now confidently set the cutter upon the course he had plotted to reach, a point to leeward of the position forty-one north, seventy-one west, whither the Rayolite would likely have drifted. All the while wind and sea were making up, more and more tumultuously. In the wireless shack Henry tried again and again to reach the Rayolite. No one on board knew whether the unfinished tanker was equipped with wireless, but hour after hour, at intervals, Henry persisted in his attempt to get word from the helpless vessel. As the Iroquois continued on her way, the wind began to shift to the east, a fact that Henry noted with apprehension. He had seen all that he wanted to see of raging storms that blew directly toward the shore. Regardless of wind and wave, the Iroquois drove on through the storm, hour after hour, until at last, as nearly as the commander could tell by dead reckoning, the cutter had attained the desired point to leeward of the position forty-one north, seventy-one west.
Long ago night had fallen. Again and again Henry had swept the stormy skies with the wireless, seeking to get some answering vibration from the Rayolite, but always his efforts had been futile. Now, as the cutter rolled in the seas, at the point where the captain had figured the Rayolite ought to be, there was neither light nor sound to suggest the presence of another ship. Tumultuous waves and driving curtains of fog and snow shut in the Iroquois. Again and again Henry combed the atmosphere with his flashing signals, but no answering sound returned through the night. Henry could not see how it would be humanly possible to find a ship under such circumstances in such a welter of raging water.
But nothing seemed to dismay Captain Hardwick. When he had swept the seas with his searchlight, and blown his siren again and again, without getting any response, he methodically set about finding the lost tanker, making a grid as he had done when searching for the derelict. All night long the cutter followed the pattern of the grid, and all night long the storm grew worse, and wind and sea made up more furiously than ever. The captain was very careful to lay his course so that mostly he was either bucking the heavy seas or running before them.
Dawn brought no cessation of the storm. With undiminished fury it lashed the sea and clutched at the staunch little cutter. Nor was there any sign of the lost Rayolite, until young Black, standing his watch in the radio shack, caught a very faint call for help. He magnified the sound to the maximum, but was able to get nothing more. At once Henry was summoned. He threw over his switch and flashed out an answering call, asking for the vessel’s name and position. His message carried true, for almost immediately came a hardly audible answer. The message was from the lost tanker. She did not know her position. She had sixteen men aboard, with no machinery, no ballast, and forty feet of freeboard. There was little food and almost no water left. She had a small radio set, operated by a small storage battery, that might carry fifty miles at most. She was wallowing fearfully and driving helpless before the storm.
Henry remained on watch while Black took the message to the captain. “Try to get a bearing with the radio compass,” ordered the captain.
Black hurried to rejoin Henry. “Tell the Rayolite we want to get a compass bearing,” said Black.
Henry turned to his key and flashed the call of the Rayolite. Hardly audible was the acknowledgment. “Iroquois wants compass bearing,” telegraphed Henry. “Flash letters MO continuously several minutes. Stand by for answer.”
“Will flash let——” came the reply, so faint that Henry hardly caught the signals. The end of the message was lost altogether.
“She’s gone,” said Henry, aghast. Then he added: “Maybe she’s only gone out of hearing. We must be heading away from her. Tell the captain.”
Black rushed for the captain. Henry turned to his key. Again and again he flashed out the call of the Rayolite, but no answering signal came through the storm. Without turning from his instruments he knew that the Iroquois was changing her course. She began to roll fearfully in the trough of the sea. Henry had to cling to his desk to keep from sliding out of his chair. Once such rolling of the ship would have filled him with terror. Now he thought little of it. He was too intent on what he was doing.