cabin of the Lycoming. It was, indeed, a great joy to them to be so near one another.
Winter came, and with it winter cruising. For periods of a week or ten days the Iroquois and her sister cutters cruised on the open sea, some patrolling along the shores to prevent the landing of alcoholic drink, some standing off dangerous coasts, to be on hand should vessels become endangered. No unusual storms arose that winter, but all the time it was boisterous out on the ocean, for the winds never ceased, and the sea was in perpetual turmoil.
Christmas found Henry thus at sea. For him it was a memorable Christmas, too, because it was the first one he had ever spent away from home. He felt a bit blue about it, but fought down the touch of homesickness that came to him. Perhaps the sea helped him to do that. On this particular day the ocean was tremendously rough. The cutter had worked far to the north-ward, and all day long had pitched about as Henry had never seen her pitch before. The cooks had prepared a goodly Christmas dinner, but it could not be served at the table. Instead it was passed out in chunks, to be eaten from one hand, while with the other hand each man clung to anything that offered support. The sea was so rough one could hardly stand without a prop.
It was a foretaste of what was to come in the