MIDNIGHT
"Well?" queried Bob.
"Why—say"—d**k's glass rose again—"say—yes, there's no mistake about it! Say—"
"Say what?" howled Tim. "Tell us, you silly duffer!"
"Why, Mr. Lovell—your Uncle Stanley—is aboard that boat!"
CHAPTER V THE OTHER BOATA chorus of exclamations rang out.
"Mr. Lovell! Can't be possible—you don't mean it?" screeched Tommy.
"Yes, I do—sure as you're sixty-three inches high."
"I'm over sixty-four!" cried Tom, hotly. "How in the world could Mr.—it's a joke; and a mighty poor one, d**k Travers."
"Joke nothing!" thundered d**k, excitedly. "See him—see him—there he is, waving a handkerchief; shouting, too—saw his mouth open. He's right by that little boat—life-boat, I mean. Get away—"
Jack had the glass again.
A moment's breathless silence; every eye was upon him
