"I wonder how it happened," groaned pale-faced Tom Clifton.
"It seems like an awful dream," panted Phil. "See how fast the 'Dauntless' is going now. In a few minutes he'll be in the gorge."
"Oh, why did we ever ask Howard to come over?"
Sam Randall directed his glass toward the base of the cliff, and a shiver ran through him.
A ridge of white foam shot up against the dark rocks which rose sheer from the water. There was nothing in that glance to inspire hope, and breathlessly they waited.
Glittering in the sunshine, the white hull, tossing and pitching violently, shot toward the base of Round Mountain.
"Poor Howard," groaned Sam. "No hope now. The 'Dauntless' is in the gorge."
