with apprehension. He had seen all that he wanted to see of raging storms that blew directly toward the shore. Regardless of wind and wave, the Iroquois drove on through the storm, hour after hour, until at last, as nearly as the commander could tell by dead reckoning, the cutter had attained the desired point to leeward of the position forty-one north, seventy-one west.
Long ago night had fallen. Again and again Henry had swept the stormy skies with the wireless, seeking to get some answering vibration from the Rayolite, but always his efforts had been futile. Now, as the cutter rolled in the seas, at the point where the captain had figured the Rayolite ought to be, there was neither light nor sound to suggest the presence of another ship. Tumultuous waves and driving curtains of fog and snow shut in the Iroquois. Again and again Henry combed the atmosphere with his flashing signals, but no answering sound returned through the night. Henry could not see how it would be humanly possible to find a ship under such circumstances in such a welter of raging water.
But nothing seemed to dismay Captain Hardwick. When he had swept the seas with his searchlight, and blown his siren again and again, without getting any response, he methodically set about finding the lost tanker, making a grid as he had done when searching for the derelict. All