"There's a smudge of smoke away to the nor'east'ard," announced Stirling. "The mild excitement of sighting a vessel will help to push the hands of the clock. Now if someone will kindly suggest a sweepstake on the nationality of yonder craft----" The door of the wireless room opened. The sharp peculiar cackle of the instruments announced that an exchange of messages was in progress. A messenger made his way to the bridge. Almost immediately after, the captain hurried from his cabin. Evidently "something was in the wind", for the appearance of the imperturbable commander of the _Nichi Maru_ at this time of day was rather unusual. "We're altering helm," declared O'Hara after a brief interval. "Since we can speak with that vessel without the necessity of having to close, it points to something of the nature of a serious mishap." The rest of the passengers were now making their way on deck. By an inexplicable intuition the presence of the still invisible vessel had made itself felt. None of the officers had communicated the news that the _Nichi Maru_ was in touch with another craft, yet in five minutes the decks were crowded with a medley of Europeans and Asiatics. "Do you know what is wrong, sir?" asked Denbigh, addressing one of the Japanese officers who happened to be making his way aft. The Jap shook his head. Like most of the _Nichi Maru's_ officers he spoke English. The question was plain to him, but with Oriental reticence he politely evaded it. "I'll get my glasses," announced O'Hara. "And mine, while you are about it," said Denbigh. "And mine, too," added the Scot. O'Hara quickly returned with the desired articles. Bringing their binoculars to bear upon the smudge on the horizon the three Subs made the discovery that there was a two-masted, three-funnelled vessel lying apparently hove-to. Smoke was issuing from her after-funnel in dense clouds, that rose slowly in the still sultry air. "She's flying an ensign," remarked the Irishman. "Yes, straight up and down like a wet dishclout," added Stirling. "For all the good it's doing it needn't be there." "Perhaps her propeller shaft is broken," suggested one of the passengers, an English merchant who had given up a good position in Tokio to return home in order to "do his bit". "Hardly," replied Denbigh. "She's bound to be a twin screw, and it isn't likely that both engines would break down." "I don't know so much about that," said O'Hara, pointing aft, where a crowd of Japanese seamen were engaged in preparing a large flexible steel hawser. "It looks as if we were going to take her in tow. And it's a long, long way to Las Palmas, worse luck." "She's a Dutchman," declared Stirling. "I can make out the red, white, and blue ensign. I wouldn't mind betting she's one of the Rotterdam and Batavia liners."