“We are lost!”
There was little more sleep for any
one that night. They sat up, talking over the
wonderful and unexpected outcome of Tom Swift’s
wireless message, and speculating as to when the steamer
would get there.
“Bless my pocket comb!
But I told you it would come out all right, if we
left it to Tom!” declared Mr. Damon.
“But it hasn’t come out
yet,” remarked the pessimistic scientist.
“The steamer may arrive too late.”
“You’re a cheerful sort
of fellow to take on a yachting trip,” murmured
Mr. Hosbrook, sarcastically. “I’ll
never invite you again, even if you are a great scientist.”
“I’m going to sit and
watch for the steamer,” declared Mr. Damon, as
he went outside the shack. The night was warm,
and there was a full moon. “Which way will
she come from, Tom?”
“I don’t know, but I should
think, that if she was on her way north, from South
America, she’d pass on the side of the island
on which we now are.”
“That’s right,”
agreed Captain Mentor. “She’ll come
up from over there,” and he pointed across the
ocean directly in front of the shacks and camp.
“Then I’m going to see
if I can’t be the first to sight her lights,”
declared Mr. Damon.
“She can’t possibly get
here inside of a day, according to what the operator
said,” declared Tom.
“Wire them to put on all the
speed they can,” urged the eccentric man.
“No, don’t waste any more
power or energy than is needed,” suggested Mr.
Hosbrook. “You may need the gasolene before
we are rescued. They are on their way, and that
is enough for now.”
The others agreed with this, and so
Tom, after a final message to the operator aboard
the CAMBARANIAN stating that he would call him up
in the morning, shut down the motor.
Mr. Damon took up his position where
he could see far out over the ocean, but, as the young
inventor had said, there was no possible chance of
sighting the relief steamer inside of a day. Still
the nervous, eccentric man declared that he would
keep watch.
Morning came, and castaways brought
to breakfast a better appetite than they had had in
some time. They were allowed larger rations,
too, for it was seen that they would have just enough
food to last until taken off.
“We didn’t need to have
made the big raft,” said Mr. Fenwick, as Tom
came down from his station, to report that he had been
in communication with the Camabarian and that she
was proceeding under forced draught. “We’ll
not have to embark on it, and I’m glad of it.”
“Oh, we may need it yet,”
asserted Mr. Parker. “I have been making
some observations just now, and the island is in a
very precarious state. It is, I believe, resting
on only a slim foundation, and the least shock may
break that off, and send it into the sea. That
is what my observations point out.”
“Then I wish you wouldn’t
make any more observations!” exclaimed Mrs.
Nestor, with spirit. “You make me nervous.”
“And me, also,” added Mrs. Anderson.
“Science can not deceive, madam,” retorted
Mr. Parker.
“Well it can keep quiet about
what it knows, and not make a person have cold chills,”
replied Mary’s mother. “I’m
sure we will be rescued in time.”
There was a slight tremor of an earthquake,
as they were eating dinner that day, but, aside from
causing a little alarm it did no damage. In the
afternoon, Tom again called up the approaching steamer,
and was informed that, because of a slight accident,
it could not arrive until the next morning. Every
effort would be made to keep up speed, it was said.
There was much disappointment over this, and Mr. Damon
was observed to be closely examining the food supply,
but hope was too strong to be easily shattered now.
Mr. Parker went off alone, to make
some further “observations” as he called
them, but Mr. Hosbrook warned him never again to speak
of his alarming theories.
Mr. Barcoe Jenks called Tom aside
just before supper that evening.
“I haven’t forgotten what
I said to you about my diamonds,” he remarked,
with many nods and winks. “I’ll show
you how to make them, if you will help me. Did
you ever see diamonds made?”
“No, and I guess very few persons
have.” replied the lad, thinking perhaps Mr.
Jenks might not be quite right, mentally.
The night passed without alarm, and
in the morning, at the first blush of dawn, every
one was astir, looking eagerly across the sea for
a sight of the steamer.
Tom had just come down from the wireless
station, having received a message to the effect that
a few hours more would bring the CAMBARANIAN within
sight of the island.
Suddenly there was a tremendous shock,
as if some great cannon had been fired, and the whole
island shook to its very centre.
“Another earthquake! The
worst yet!” screamed Mrs. Anderson.
“We are lost!” cried Mrs.
Nestor, clinging to her husband.
An instant later they were all thrown
down by the tremor of the earth, and Tom, looking
toward his wireless station, saw nearly half of the
island disappear from sight. His station went
down in collapse with it, splashing into the ocean,
and the wave that followed the terrible crash washed
nearly to the castaways, as they rose and kneeled
on the sand.
“The island is sinking!”
cried Mr. Parker. “Make for the raft!”
“I guess it’s our only
chance,” murmured Captain Mentor, as he gazed
across the water. There was no steamer in sight.
Could it arrive on time? The tremors and shaking
of the island continued.