"If you wanted an adventure, Leander, I guess you are getting it," remarked Don, grimly. "This is worse than that blizzard. I'll be thankful if we get out of this with whole skins."
"Dis is de greatest storm I ever seed," put in Danny. "If de boat shakes much more, everyt'ing in de crockery line will be gone to smash, dat's a fact," and he rolled off to secure his dishes and pans from such a catastrophe. Several dishes and glasses were wrecked, but not as many as Danny imagined.
The man who had been rescued was a heavyset individual of twenty-five or thirty years of age, and Dick rightfully guessed that he was an Englishman. He had been struck on the head, and it was found that a nasty cut must be plastered up and then bound with a cloth.
"Poor fellow, he has certainly had a hard time of it," observed Don. "I'm glad we managed to save him."
"And so am I glad," returned Dick. "I'll wager he'll have a story worth telling when he gets around to it."
"Yes, I have a tale worth telling," came with a gasp from the sufferer; but having opened his eyes for a moment, he closed them again, and said nothing more for fully half an hour.
The fury of the storm had caused the Dashaway to move far out to sea, and when, at eleven
