out of sight. With her tremendous freeboard, she drove before the gale almost as fast as the Iroquois could steam. The captain turned his searchlight directly on the vanishing tanker, signaled for more speed, and drove straight at her. And all night long the Iroquois steamed directly at the Rayolite, which drove furiously ahead, under the pressure of the gale. The captain left the bridge and threw himself on the cushioned seats in his cabin, to snatch some sleep. Henry, who had spent long, long hours on duty, made his way to the operators’ cabin and lay down, fully dressed, in Black’s bed. The latter and Belford were to watch through the night, with Henry subject to call, if messages had to be sent. He was so worn out that he did not even remove his coat, the jacket he had snatched from the wardrobe after his wetting.
Daylight saw no cessation of the wind, though the snow had ceased to fall, and no longer was the face of the deep clouded with mist. When the captain came on deck again, after a few hours’ rest, he pushed the cutter straight at the Rayolite until she was close behind her. Meantime he had sent a wireless to the tanker, telling her to watch for a line. Now the little brass gun was brought to the cutter’s forward rail, and that sturdy little craft was pushed still nearer the tanker, which was driving ahead, broadside to. At a favorable