pleasant, for as the wind came ever stronger, and the ship rose and fell more noticeably, a strange feeling crept over Henry. He began to feel queer about his stomach.
“I must have indigestion,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe I ate something that didn’t agree with me.”
He kept getting sicker and sicker. Soon he suspected that he was seasick. Finally he could stand it on the bridge no longer. Trying hard to control himself, he said good-night to Lieutenant Hill, and made his way with trembling limbs down the ladder to the deck. Like a drunken man he went reeling aft, for the ship was beginning to roll. When he reached the after companionway, he felt worse than ever, for the motion was much more noticeable than it had been forward or amidship. He could stand it no longer. Making his way unsteadily to the leeward rail, he leaned over it and vomited. He had never felt so sick in his life. Every minute he seemed to feel worse. He was so weak he was afraid he would fall over the rail. He decided that he would try to get to his bunk.
He turned and started toward the companionway, when the ship rolled far over on her side. As though he were shot out of a cannon Henry went plunging across the deck. There was nothing he could grasp to stop himself. With