"Not a chance in a thousand. It's too rough for the lookout to spy our boat, and, even if the steamer should come close, we could never make her hear. She's either a tramp or an ocean liner from Halifax for Portland." On she plowed unswervingly and majestically, straight toward them. "I'm afraid she's coming too near for comfort," said Jim, anxiously. "She might run us down and never know it. Lots of fishermen have gone that way. Ship that oar in the scull-hole. I'm going to haul in the drug." He lifted the trawl-tub aboard and sprang quickly aft. "We'll know pretty quick whether she's likely to pass ahead or astern. We can't count on being seen. We've got to look out for ourselves." Freed from its floating anchor, the dory bobbed wildly. Wielding his oar skilfully, Spurling held her bow to the north, ready to scull for the last inch, or to let her drop back, as the approach of the steamer might make it advisable. Closer and closer came the big boat; her lights oscillated with pendulum-like regularity as she rolled on the heavy seas. "She'll pass astern," was Jim's verdict. "Won't do to drift in front of her." He sculled strongly, keeping an anxious eye on the threatening monster. Percy's hair bristled. "Harder, Jim!" he shouted. "She's going to run us down! Steamer ahoy! Keep off! Keep off!" The rushing foam smothered his cries. Meanwhile Spurling worked like a steam-engine. Two lives hung on his oar-blade. As the knife-like stem sheared past, close astern, the green eye disappeared; the red glared menacingly down from the huge bulk looming overhead. Then the lofty black side swept by, flashing an occasional ray from a lighted port-hole. The screw gave them a sickening moment, but they soon tossed safely astern, breathing hard, eyes on the dwindling leviathan, wallowing westward. Jim spoke first: "Close as they make 'em! I'm glad that's over!" Percy agreed with all his heart. Jim had discovered that the tub was becoming a bit shaky, so he reinforced the lanyard, and strengthened the bottom by binding it with ground-line. Before long it was towing again in front of the bow, as good as new. Hours passed, but the intensity of the gale did not slacken. The sea was frightfully rough. It kept the boys bailing continually. Dawn broke at last. On the eastern horizon grew a pale light, against which the ragged, savagely leaping crests were silhouetted weirdly. It brightened to a crimson glow, and soon the sun was shooting its fiery arrows across the heaving, glittering waste. The forenoon wore slowly on as they drifted steadily south. The water around the dory was alive with whirlpools. Gigantic green seas rushed down as if to overwhelm her, but she flirted her bow aloft and rode them stanchly. Percy, glancing to starboard, saw a black fin cutting the slope of a watery ridge. "Shark, Jim?" "Yes. And there's another to port. They're looking for trouble. They'll stick by till we're out of this scrape or in a worse one."