A few moments afterward Jack and Ned saw the liner’s ensign glide slowly down the jack-staff and then ascend again as she acknowledged the mid-air courtesy.
“Can’t we turn and follow her?” asked Ned, as the steamer, with a great creamy bow wave curling away from her sharp cutwater, sped on her way.
“Certainly. For a short distance, anyway. We might as well show them our paces.”
Jack swung the Electric Monarch in a sharp circle and they could feel the equilibrium devices grate and vibrate as the big craft was “banked” at a sharp angle. By this time the steamer had put quite an interval between herself and the Electric Monarch. But Jack let the hydroaeroplane out a notch more than he had been doing.
The Electric Monarch answered the quickened impulses of her propellers like a race horse. In a flash, as it seemed, she was once more abreast of the steam vessel.
“Look,” cried Ned, suddenly, “there’s a man clambering up on the jack-staff.”
The venturesome passenger had gained the stern railing. He hopped to the top of it and then began to swarm up the jack-staff from the summit of which fluttered the flag. Holding on with one hand he waved frantically with the other. The boys were in the act of acknowledging the salute when Jack gave a sharp cry.
“Gracious! He’s overboard!”
Like a stone the man had suddenly dropped from the jack-staff into the swirling water astern of the steamer. How he had lost his hold was a mystery. It all happened in a flash. One second he was waving, the next they saw him falling down into the sea and then the waters closed over him.
The steamer’s whistle sounded in short quick jerks. It was the signal to man the lifeboats. The boys could see the passengers and the crew rushing about in seeming confusion, but in the case of the latter, as they knew, the apparent chaos represented order.