“A continuation of our progress will take us to higher land, if the land is undisturbed. But we must remember that terrific tides and currents are being set up. It is possible we are ‘drifting’ on a tide that is traveling at a rate of speed which would be incredible were not the earth toppling on its axis.”
“You think it is?” asked Phil.
The light of fanaticism came into the washed-out eyes of the little man. “I know it is!” he said. “I knew it would happen, I predicted it, and I was ridiculed. They laughed at me simply because their scientific ideas, which were all founded upon terrestrial stability, didn’t coincide with mine.”
Phil nodded. “What do we do now, keep a watch?”
Professor Parker shrugged his shoulders.
“It won’t do any good. But I want to make some calculations and check over certain data I’ve gathered. There’s no reason why you two shouldn’t sleep. Then I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”
Phil regarded his wet clothes.
“That’s okay,” he said. “There’s a stateroom forward. Miss Ranson can take that. I’ll bunk down here in the main cabin and give these clothes a chance to dry.”
The girl nodded, crossed to Professor Parker. “You’ll call me if anything happens?”
He nodded.
“And promise you won’t work too hard?”
He smiled up at her.
“Yes, I will. If you’ll promise to sleep.”
“I’ll try,” she said.
Phil wished her good night, caught the wistful light in her eyes, saw her lips smile.
“As for you,” she said, her lips smiling, “you certainly made quite a pick-up in the subway! I’m afraid I just wished myself off on you as a nuisance.”
Phil gasped. “If you only knew...”
But she gently closed the door of the cabin.
“Don’t try to tell me,” she called. “Go to sleep.”
Phil Bregg removed his soggy garments.
“A wonderful girl!” he said to Professor Parker.
But the scientist didn’t hear him. He was bent over the table, illuminated by the electric light which was running from the yacht’s storage battery, and his fingers were dashing off figures on a sheet of paper, while his eyes had lost their washed-out appearance and sparkled with excitement.
Phil felt instant drowsiness gripping him as he lay back on the berth and pulled one of the blankets over him. Outside, the rain pelted down on the roof of their little craft, and the hypnotic effect lulled him into almost instantaneous slumber.
He felt, during the night, that he was riding a bronco in a rodeo, that the horse was taking great leaps that took him entirely over the grandstand on the first jump. That the second jump went over a range of mountains, and the higher atmosphere roared past them with a sound as of thunder.
There followed third and fourth leaps, and then a steady rhythm of roaring noise that filled the air.
Gradually the roaring subsided, and he felt the strange steed he rode coming down to earth. He breathed a sigh of relief, but there was a vague wonder in his mind as to whether he hadn’t “pulled leather” on one of those long first leaps.
But he was too drowsy to worry, and he went off to sleep again.
He awoke to find his shoulder being shaken, and his eyes opened to find daylight and the face of the professor.
Phil sat upright instantly.
“You were going to call me,” he said, “and let me stand watch!”
Professor Parker’s eyes were reddened slightly, and his face showed lines of strain, but he seemed filled with enthusiasm and strength.
“There was nothing you could have done,” he said. “And the phenomena wouldn’t have interested you. On the other hand I wouldn’t have missed them for anything.
“During the night a series of terrific tidal waves swept us on our course with a speed that I don’t even dare to contemplate. The ocean seems to be rushing somewhere with a force and velocity which is absolutely unprecedented.
“What I am afraid of is that we may get into some huge vortex and be sucked down. I want to be able to steer clear of it if possible, and there’s a little wind. Do you suppose we could set a sail?”
“It isn’t a sailboat. It’s a motor cruiser,” said Phil, “but we might be able to get something on her that’d give us a chance to steer a bit, not to go any place, but to keep her pointed. Where’s Miss Ranson?”
“Asleep. She came out about midnight, or what would have been midnight, and said she hadn’t slept much. But she went back, and I think she’s asleep. It’s only four o’clock in the morning now, but the sun’s up.”
Phil looked out of the porthole.
“Why, it’s quit raining!”
“Yes. It’s been clear for three hours. I’ve been trying to check our progress by the stars, but they’ve changed position so rapidly I came to the conclusion the earth was still spinning.
“However, about half an hour ago it steadied down, and the course of the sun seems quite normal, around a plane which would indicate we are in the southern hemisphere, and, I should say, not a great distance from the new temperate zone. We may find the climate quite delightful.”
Phil Bregg reached for his clothes, kicked off the blanket.
“Maybe we’ll find a new continent or something.”
The tone of the scientist was dry.
“Yes,” he said, “maybe!”
In that moment Phil realized how utterly hopeless the man considered their plight. He was not expecting to live long, this strange man who had been predicting the catastrophe for years, but he was putting in every minute taking astronomical observations, checking data.
Phil grinned.
“How about breakfast?” he asked. Professor Parker frowned.
“I am afraid,” he said, “that we will have to regulate the rapidity with which we consume our somewhat meager stock of rations. Now it is obvious that—”
The door of the little stateroom opened, and Stella Ranson stood on the threshold, smiling at them. She looked fresh as some morning flower glinting dew encrusted petals in the sunlight.
“Good morning, everybody; when do we eat?”
“Come on in and act as reinforcements,” grinned Phil. “The professor doesn’t need much food, and he’s getting the idea that we should go on a diet or something. Now let’s get this thing organized, professor. You act as chief navigator and collector of data. Miss Ranson can take charge of the interior, and I’ll handle all the rough work and keep the crowd in grub. What do you say?”
“How can you keep us supplied with food when there is no food to be had?” asked the professor. “The world is devoid of life. There isn’t so much as a duck within sight, and, if there were, we are without means to reduce it to food.”
Phil grinned.
“You don’t know me. I’ve never gone hungry for very long yet, and I’ve been in some mighty tough country. Once down in Death Valley the boys thought they had me stumped, but I fooled ’em by feeding ’em coyote meat and telling ’em it was jackrabbit meat I’d cut off the bone.”
Professor Parker shook his head, unsmilingly.
“Oh, well,” grinned Phil, “I’m going to rig a sail. You can argue with Miss Stella. I think she’ll do more to convince you.”
And Phil went up on deck to survey the mast, figure on a sail. The sunlight felt mellow and warm, and he stretched his arms, took a deep inhalation of the pure air, and then, as his eyes swept the horizon, suddenly blinked, rubbed his hand over his eyes, and shouted down the companionway.