"She'll never give us any aid."

"There you go!" cried Russ. "I thought you'd given up that sort of thing!"

"Well, I didn't mean just that," the actor said. "Perhaps we will make her see us after all."

"That's better!" exclaimed Russ. "We'll get her--or crack a cylinder!"

and he tried to get a few more revolutions out of the fly wheel.

In spite of their brave front, Russ and his companion were sufficiently miserable. Their boat constantly shipped water, and they had to use the hand force pump, which, fortunately, was in the craft. A pump was connected with the cylinder cooling apparatus, designed to free the c.o.c.kpit of bilge water, but the pump would not work.

Russ and Mr. Sneed were wet through, for the cabin could not be entirely closed against the spray. And they had nothing to eat except cold victuals. There was a gasoline stove aboard, but there was nothing to cook, for only an emergency ration had been put in the craft, and that was more because of a whim on the part of Jack Jepson, than because he really thought it would be needed.

But more than once as they drank of the water, and nibbled the hard biscuits, or crackers, in the water-tight box, Russ and his companion blessed the forethought of honest Jack Jepson--I beg his pardon, Captain Jepson it was now, though neither Russ nor Mr. Sneed knew that.

"I think I'll hoist a signal," said the actor, as they drove on, now seeing the steamer, and again losing her.

"Good idea," Russ agreed, as he busied himself with an oil can.

Mr. Sneed managed to lash an oar upright, and on it he fastened a bit of canvas. It stood out straight, like a board, so strong was the wind that whipped it.

"I hope they see that," commented the actor.

"I hope so, too," added Russ. "It doesn't do any good to yell, for the wind is blowing from them to us."

More than once, as they urged their craft on a long slant toward the steamer, they almost gave up hope. But it sprang up again, and finally, as a break in the clouds let out a little rift of light, someone on the watch aboard the steamer saw the fluttering signal.

"She's seen us! She's seen us!" cried Russ in delight.

"How can you tell?" demanded his companion.

"She whistled. I saw the steam. You'll hear the blast in a second."

And they did. Light travels faster than sound. They saw the steam from the powerful whistle before they heard the hoa.r.s.e blast; even as one sees the flash of a gun before hearing the report.

The steamer changed her course, and came on toward the motorboat.

"Suppose it's the English one, that wants to capture poor Jack,"

suggested Mr. Sneed.

"That doesn't make any difference," Russ said. "She'll save us, and then look for the schooner. We can take up Jack's case later."

It did not prove to be the English steamer. Instead it was a powerful fruiter, hailing from New York, and Russ and Mr. Sneed were soon aboard, the _Ajax_ being hoisted to her deck. Then she resumed her course, but it was a different one.

For, on the earnest plea of Russ and Mr. Sneed, the steamer's captain consented to turn back and search for the _Mary Ellen_.

"I don't know as I'll find her," he said, "but we can't let all those poor souls perish."

So the search began. It lasted three days, during which the storm nearly blew itself out. And on the morning of the fourth day, when the sullen sea was trying to calm itself, and when the wind had died down to a moderate gale, the lookout of the _Sirius_ called out:

"Sail ho!"

"Where away?" came the demand.

"Dead ahead. She's a schooner, low in the water, and she's flying a signal of distress!"

CHAPTER XXV

CLEAR SKIES

Instantly there was commotion and excitement on board the _Sirius_, for Russ and Mr. Sneed had told their story of the starting out to make a pictured shipwreck, which shipwreck had evidently, now, become real.

"That's the _Mary Ellen_, I'm sure of it!" Russ cried as he caught a glimpse of the sighted schooner. "But what has happened to her?"

"Masts are gone, and she's sinking," one of the steamer's officers told him. "I guess we can't get to her any too quickly."

And it was high time a rescue was made, for Captain Jepson, and Mr.

Pertell had decided to take to the boats with all on board.

The _Mary Ellen_ _was_ sinking; there was no doubt of that. All that could be done had been done, but to no avail.

But hope revived when the steamer was sighted.

A little later, the _Sirius_ stood by. And high time, too. As a last resort, when it was found that the repaired pumps could not keep the water down in the hold, so big was the leak, the signal of distress had been hoisted. And, after many anxious hours, it had been thus providentially answered.

Then a thought came to Mr. Pertell. The weather had cleared. The schooner would keep afloat a few hours more. Why not make the pictures of the shipwreck now? It would be his only chance. True, they would not be just as planned, but they would be better than losing all the efforts that had been made.

There was a brief talk with the captain of the _Sirius_. He consented to stand by until the sea drama, quickly revised, was acted out--at least, until shipwreck scenes were portrayed.

It was rather an exciting time, the pa.s.sengers dropping overboard from the sinking schooner, and being rescued in boats. Russ, on board the _Ajax_, which was again put into the sea, worked the camera. The _Mary Ellen_ made a more realistic wreck than had been hoped for. Former Captain Brisco and Hen Lacomb, alone, refused to take any part in the drama.

At last the final film was run off, the last rescue was made by the motor craft and small boats, and all, pa.s.sengers and crew, from the sinking schooner, were taken aboard the _Sirius_.

"There she goes!" said Alice softly, as, with a final lurch, and a blowing up of her decks, from the compressed air under them, the old craft, bow first went beneath the waves. Russ took the final pictures.

"Game to the last!" said Captain Jepson. "She went down bow on, to show she wasn't afraid of Davy Jones! That's the last of her, and the last of Brisco's schemes to get her for his own use."

"Tell me about that now," suggested Mr. Pertell. "I have time to listen now, for we aren't trying to save a sinking ship."

They were all now safely aboard the steamer, which had resumed her course. The moving pictures had all been taken, save some that needed a sh.o.r.e background, and these could be done later.

"Did Brisco really plot to get the _Mary Ellen_?" asked the manager.

"He did," said Jack Jepson. "I'll tell you the whole story." And he did.

Briefly it was this: