"What do you mean?" asked Ned again, when
Tom did not answer him immediately. "What's
the excitement?"
"I think we're in for a storm," was the reply.
"The barometer is falling and I see the crew
going about making everything snug. So we
may have a little trouble toward this end of our
trip."
"Let it come!" exclaimed Mr. Damon. "We're
not afraid of trouble, Tom. Swift, are we?"
"No, to be sure we're not. And yet it looks
as though the storm would be a bad one."
"Then I am going to see if my books and
papers are ready, so I can get them together in a
hurry in case we have to take to the life-boats,"
said Professor Bumper, coming on deck at that
moment. "It won't do to lose them. If we
didn't have the map we might not be able to find----"
"Ahem!" exclaimed Tom, with unnecessary
emphasis it seemed. "I'll help you go over your
papers, Professor," he added, and with a wink
and a motion of his hand, he enjoined silence on
his friend. Ned looked around for a reason for
this, and observed a man, evidently of Spanish
extraction, passing them as he paced up and
down the deck.
"What's the matter?" asked the scientist in
a whisper, as the man went on. "Do you know
him? Is he a----?"
"I don't know anything about him," said Tom;
"but it is best not to speak of our trip before
strangers."
"You are right, Tom," said Professor Bumper.
"I'll be more careful."
A storm was brewing, that was certain. A
dull, sickly yellow began to obscure the sky, and
the water, from a beautiful blue, turned a slate
color and ran along the sides of the vessel with a
hissing sound as though the sullen waves would
ask nothing better than to suck the craft down
into their depths.
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