Putting into operation the plan he had decided on for saving their supply of gasolene, Tom sent out his messages the remainder of the day, at the intervals agreed upon. Then the apparatus was shut down, but the lad paid frequent visits to the shack, and listened to the clicks of the telephone receiver. He caught several messages, but they were not in response to his appeals for aid.
That night there was a slight earthquake shock, but no more of the island fell into the sea, though the castaways were awakened by the tremors, and were in mortal terror for a while.
Three days passed, days of anxious waiting, during which time Tom sent out message after message by his wireless, and waited in vain for an answer. There were three shocks in this interval, two slight, and one very severe, which last cast into the ocean a great cliff on the far end of the island. There was a flooding rush of water, but no harm resulted.
"It is coming nearer," said Mr. Parker.
"What is?" demanded Mr. Hosbrook.
"The destruction of our island. My theory will soon be confirmed," and the scientist actually seemed to take pleasure in it.
"Oh, you and your theory!" exclaimed the millionaire in disgust. "Don't let me hear you mention it again! Haven't we troubles enough?"
