As the day wore on Johnny watched Rusty ever more closely. The heavy, unpleasant work, together with the ever-increasing roll of the ship, was telling. He was not surprised that, after the day was over and they were allowed to go to the upper deck, she took his arm to lean on it heavily.
“Johnny, I won’t give up. Please help me not to give up.”
Johnny looked down at her with a reassuring smile.
As they stepped on deck they found themselves looking at a new world. Gone was the fog. In its place was racing blue waters, flecked with foam.
“A storm!” the girl shuddered.
“Just too dark to see land,” Johnny groaned. “If it wasn’t, we might get our location and then—”
“Then what?” she whispered.
“I have some plans. We—”
“Sh—an officer!” she warned.
At the evening meal Rusty ate hard, dry crackers and drank scalding tea. She was still putting up a brave struggle against being sea-sick.