"They'll probably be coming in now," the captain said, but he did not take the trouble to look around and see. "We can't wait for them in this wind," he went on. "But we _must_ wait for him!" Ruth cried, getting excited. "We can't go off and leave them in that motorboat, on the ocean, in a storm! We must wait!" She started toward Captain Brisco, with her hands held out appealingly. Alice was wildly looking around for a sight of the smaller craft. She had seen it just before the sail fell, but now there was nothing about the schooner but a bare waste of waters. She knew enough about the technical side of moving pictures to realize that for some time, it had been too dark to take any film. Russ must have known that, too, and would have started back for the schooner. But if he had, where was he now? Alice asked herself that question as she looked around. "You must wait for him!" cried Ruth. "Who? What's this?" demanded Mr. Pertell, for he had been hurrying to and fro, making sure none of the members of his company had been injured in the slight accident. "Russ hasn't come back," volunteered Alice, who almost always spoke ahead of her sister. "He's out there!" Ruth found voice to say, "and Captain Brisco isn't going to wait for him." "You can't hold a ship still on the ocean, and a storm coming up!" the commander cried, as though to justify himself. "We've got to run for it. It would be madness now to lay to." "But we can't desert Russ and Mr. Sneed!" cried the manager. "I thought he was coming in. What shall we do? We must do something! I shouldn't have asked him to risk it!" The schooner was rapidly forging ahead, even under reefed sails, so powerful was the wind. "We could work around," said Jack Jepson, who had come up on deck after seeing the first mate comfortably bestowed in his berth. "We could work around and----" "Who's in charge of this ship; you or me?" snapped Captain Brisco. "You are, of course," was the quiet answer. "Well then, have the goodness to keep still and let me manage matters. I'm giving orders--not you!" Poor Jack slunk back, smarting under the undeserved rebuke. "I don't care who is in command!" cried Mr. Pertell. "This is my ship and you're under my orders, Captain Brisco. I order you to pick up that motorboat!" "And I tell you we can't do it! They've got to come to us, we can't go to them. They're not dependent on the wind as we are. They can travel any direction they like, and they'll have to head for us." "But we must make some effort to find them!" cried the manager. "It would be wicked--criminal not to."