“Stop the boat!” rang out the voice of the young aviator, sharply, for Hiram, his hand tangled in the trolling line, had been pulled clear over the end of the yawl. His startled comrades saw him disappear, and strove staunchly to put the boat about. As the craft half turned, there was a shock and a crash.
A giant fish, perhaps a shark, had struck the boat amidships. The craft was splintered in half as quick as a flash. The next minute the young aviator and his companion were struggling in the water.
The big marine monster had apparently gone straight on its way in pursuit of a disappearing phosphorescent mass. Dave grabbed out at the one floating half of the wrecked yawl.
“This way—Hiram! Elmer!” he shouted at the top of his voice.
“I’m here,” panted Elmer, as he reached Dave’s side and grasped the edge of the floating wreck.
“Where’s Hiram?”
“U-um! Thunder!” puffed the individual in question. “I’m safe, but my big catch got away, line and all.”
“Never mind that now,” replied Dave. “We’re in a serious fix, fellows.”
“And all the fish in the boat gone, too,” mourned Hiram, dolefully.
“See here, both of you,” ordered Dave, decisively, “don’t waste any time. We don’t know what kind of danger hovers about us. Yell!”