Farther and farther to the right swung the bow of the Admiral, while the Prescott began to swerve to the left, and the danger was over.
“Great work, Perkins! You’ve saved our lives!” megaphoned the other carrier’s skipper as she passed on.
“Too close! I don’t want any more like—” began Captain Perkins, when there came frenzied shouts from the Admiral’s stern, which were quickly passed by the crew on deck, acting as lookouts, to the bridge: “Boat ahoy! Off the starboard stern!”
“Take the bridge, Mr. Adams,” exclaimed the skipper, ordering full speed ahead. “Keep your eyes open in front!” and he hurried to the deck.
“Wireless, sir! Prescott wants to know if she shall stand by?” called the operator.
“Tell her ‘yes’!” shouted back Captain Perkins, as he ran aft, where he quickly mounted the superstructure, the better to see, having instructed Hansen to station men to pass his orders to the chief in the engine room.
The other boat, however, had heard the cries and located the Admiral, thus averting the danger of collision by a wider margin than in the case of the Prescott.
But the shouts and exchange of hails had carried far through the fog, and again whistles and sirens screeched in all directions.
When a lull came, the Admiral’s skipper raised to his lips the megaphone he had carried from the bridge.
“Ahoy, astern! Who are you?” he demanded. “Palmer,” came the answer. “We picked up your wireless, Admiral. There are boats all around us. How are we going to get out of this tangle?”