Sweeping up from the West Indies, the storm overtook the Maldah off the Florida coast. The blow increased; from then on, it was a battle for existence. The crisis came when the Maldah was swept in toward the Georgia coast. Surrounded by darkness, pounded by huge waves, the yacht was making a last struggle.
The fact that the Maldah had neared the shore was proven by a strange phenomenon. The captain believed that his ship was near a desolate location. The wireless was out of commission; it seemed impossible that anyone would sight the rising and falling line of the yacht's lights, as they glimmered pitifully above the waves. It was a sailor, stationed at the bow, who first learned otherwise.
A sudden line of sparks flashed from a mile distant on the lee of the yacht. A sizzling rocket whizzed upward from the shore, to burst into a myriad of colored sparks that were swept into instant oblivion. Word went to the captain of the Maldah; he ordered an answering signal. Soon, a streaking rocket shot up from the yacht's deck into the night.
While this was happening above, the passengers were assembled in the main cabin. Kingdon Feldworth was seated with his back to the oak panels that hid his treasure; but his thoughts were far from the Cuban wealth. Feldworth had cause for greater concern tonight. He was deeply anxious about the safety of those aboard his yacht.
NONE of the passengers showed great worriment. Bram Jalway was seated near Feldworth; a traveler who had been everywhere. Jalway was undisturbed by the storm. His lips had their usual smile; his eyes were sharp as they roved about the cabin. Jalway seemed to consider the storm with a half-amused indulgence.
Professor Thaddeus Marcolm was half asleep. The white-haired professor's head was drooped toward his chest; it bobbed with the heaving motion of the yacht. Marcolm's fists were tight upon the arms of his chair; but only for the purpose of holding himself in position.
Seth Hadlow was solemnly puffing a cigarette. His face looked anxious; but it usually had something of that expression. Hadlow's manner was proof that he was untroubled by the elements. A sportsman always, Hadlow was taking the hurricane as a game.
Francine Feldworth actually felt worried; but the composure of her companions quelled her alarm. Though her face was troubled, Francine's lips were set; her dark eyes sparkled their trust in the men about her.
Kingdon Feldworth surveyed his guests with approval. The yacht owner was pleased with the stoutness that three men had shown during the storm. Feldworth would hardly have been surprised had he learned that one of the trio was The Shadow, who was used to dangerous adventures. But Feldworth would have had trouble in picking out The Shadow, had he known of that master's presence. Since all had confidence and quiet courage, there was no way to choose between them.
Kingdon Feldworth had come to a decision. Whatever might occur, he would stay aboard the yacht. As owner, he felt that he had that privilege. Because of the Cuban wealth, he was determined upon his purpose. Should occasion come to take for the shore, Feldworth intended to insist that the others go while he remain.
Meanwhile, The Shadow had come to an opposite decision. He had not been idle during the voyage north from Havana. He had come to the conclusion that all of Feldworth's crew stood loyal to the master of the yacht. Feldworth's treasure would be safe on board.
Should persons seek the shore, however, they might encounter danger there. They would need The Shadow's aid; hence he was prepared to go along with any party that might be ordered to the lifeboats.
Conversation had lulled when the door of the cabin swung open. The captain heaved through the doorway, with rolling gait; he caught himself and thrust the door shut. He turned a rugged face toward Feldworth.
"What is it, captain?" questioned the yacht owner. "Is the hurricane increasing?"
"Yes," returned the captain. "We're in for it. I'm counting on the engines, though. Maybe we'll pull through."
A SIGH of relief came from Feldworth. The owner looked anxiously over his shoulder, toward the paneled wall. Hadlow puffed his cigarette and watched Feldworth. Jalway also eyed the yacht owner, then turned to speak to Francine. Professor Marcolm awoke from his doze and blinked.
"We're off the Georgia coast," informed the captain. "You know what that means, Mr. Feldworth. Islands. Sand. If we beach the ship, she'll be pounded to pieces. But if we can limp to any kind of an inlet, I can beach her where she won't break up."
"Good!" exclaimed Feldworth. "We must save the yacht, captain! This ship means much to me -"
"Not as much as human lives," put in the officer. "Remember this, Mr. Feldworth: the storm is increasing. The longer we stand by the ship, the greater the danger. We can launch the small boats at present. But later on -"
"You mean we should abandon the yacht?" interrupted Feldworth. "I refuse to do so, captain. As for you, it is your duty to remain."
"That is what I intend to do," retorted the captain. "Likewise the crew. I am speaking for the safety of the passengers. This will be their last chance to get ashore. With the engines working" - the speaker paused as the ship quivered with increased throbs - "I'm going to drive away from shore."
"But this coast is desolate!" exclaimed Feldworth. "If the small boat should survive the waves, where would it land?"
"Near human habitation," assured the captain. "We have seen lights on the shore. The yacht has been observed. We received a rocket signal from the beach."
"You answered it?"
"Yes. Rescuers are waiting. Our lifeboats are unsinkable. That is why I propose that you and your passengers should take this opportunity for safety. I shall stand by the ship."
FELDWORTH arose. Swaying unsteadily with the motion of the yacht, he clapped his hand upon the captain's shoulder.
"Fine news," declared the owner. "You are right, captain. We shall launch the small boat for the passengers. But I, like you, intend to remain aboard."
"No, uncle!" exclaimed Francine. "You must come with us!"
"I shall stand by," returned Feldworth.
"Then I shall remain," decided the girl. "And I believe" - she looked about the cabin - "that the others will do the same."
"What about it, captain?" queried Feldworth, with a smile.
"The lifeboat will be ready in ten minutes," asserted the officer, steadily. "All passengers will go ashore. That is my order. It must be obeyed!"
"But my uncle!" protested Francine. "He will have to go with us!"
"Mr. Feldworth is owner of the Maldah," returned the captain. "I cannot force him to leave the ship. But the rest of you will obey my command. I shall use force, if necessary."
"Be calm, Francine," insisted Feldworth, swaying toward the girl's chair. "From the shore, you can inform the coast guards. They may bring us aid. With our wireless out of commission, we shall need assistance of that sort."
"Your uncle is right, Francine," stated Hadlow, quietly. "We shall take to the lifeboat. What about it, Jalway?"
"I should prefer to remain aboard," returned the promoter, still wearing his fixed smile. "But the captain has ordered otherwise. He must be obeyed. Moreover, Francine" - he turned to the girl - "I cannot forget your safety."
"You are ready, professor?" inquired Hadlow.
Professor Marcolm responded with a solemn nod of his white-haired head.
"Two crew members will go with you," declared the captain, deciding that the matter was settled. "You, Mr. Hadlow, and you, Mr. Jalway, are as capable as any man aboard this yacht. Four able-bodied men are all that the lifeboat will require.
"Bring most of your luggage to the deck. It will serve as ballast. The crew members - I am sending Hoskins and Dashler with you - have arranged provisions and firearms. Ten minutes."