“What’s all this?” exclaimed Grant, startled by the sudden change that had come over the boat.

The four boys looked about them in surprise, unable to account for the transformation. Petersen was forgotten; jewels and treasure were forgotten; even the strange code was forgotten and Grant absent-mindedly thrust it into his trouser’s pocket.

“What is it, do you suppose?” he exclaimed again.

“Look over there and you’ll see,” said Fred.

He pointed to the westward and as his three friends gazed in the direction he had indicated they soon saw the cause of all the commotion. Far off on the western horizon appeared a cloud. That in itself was no special reason for alarm, but it was a very peculiar looking cloud. It was grayish-black in color and shaped like a funnel. Long ragged strips had separated themselves from the main body and hung like long wisps from the sky.

“Do you think it’s a tornado?” exclaimed John, in a low voice.

“I don’t know, String,” said Pop. “It looks bad though, doesn’t it?”

“It does to me all right,” said Fred grimly. “The captain must think it is pretty serious too from all the preparations that are being made.”

“They’re taking in some of the sails,” remarked Grant.

“I’m glad of that,” exclaimed Fred. “When that storm hits us I don’t want any more canvas spread than is necessary.”

“Perhaps it won’t hit us,” said George hopefully.

“You’re an optimist, Pop, I’m afraid,” said Fred. “I think it’ll hit us all right.”

“The breeze is going down,” said John suddenly.

“It surely is,” agreed Grant. “The lull before the storm.”

“Look at that cloud now,” exclaimed Fred. “It’s spreading all over the sky and see how fast it is going. It’ll be dark in a few minutes.”

“Why don’t they take the rest of the sails in?” demanded John nervously. “I must say I don’t like this.”

“They’ve taken in the topsails and the mizzen,” said Grant. “That’s a big part.”

A lull had now come over the crew and the four young friends were unconsciously affected by it. Now there was not a breath of air stirring; the sails hung heavy and motionless from the yards. Blacker and blacker grew the sky; the stillness all about became appalling. No one spoke a word, but every one stood around as though waiting for something serious to happen. The crew was gathered about the forward hatchway silently watching the approach of the storm.

Mr. Johnson, the mate, went forward and gave some order in a low tone. More sails were taken in, all in a solemn and quiet manner. The brig now lay motionless on the water while an uneasy expectation of something threatening seemed to hang overhead. The suspense was terrible. Captain Dodge paced silently up and down the deck but he spoke to no one and no one spoke to him. It was now so dark it was almost impossible to see the length of the ship.

Again Mr. Johnson came forward and gave another low-voiced command. Two sailors, one of whom was Petersen, started up the mast to clew down the main top-gallant sail. They had just reached the fore-top-gallant yard when a strange thing happened.

“Look,” cried John, in an awe struck voice.

“What is that?” demanded Fred in a frightened whisper.

“A corposant,” said Grant. “I’ve read about them.”

Over and directly above the heads of the two sailors appeared a light. It was in the shape of a ball and hung to the very top of the mast.

“What’s a corposant?” whispered John.

“I don’t know,” replied Grant, “except that that’s what they call a ball of light like that one. If it goes up it’s supposed to be good luck, but if it comes down it’s bad.”

“I wish Petersen wasn’t up there,” muttered Fred.

“Don’t be silly, Fred,” exclaimed Grant sharply. The tension was affecting every one’s nerves. It was almost pitch dark on the Josephine now.

“I can’t help it,” insisted Fred. “I wish it was some one else up there.”

“It’s gone,” remarked John suddenly.

“No, it isn’t,” George corrected. “There it is, down on the yard.”

“It came down then,” said Fred. “I knew it would.”

“Don’t blame Petersen,” exclaimed Grant. “It’s not his fault.”

The two sailors had climbed down quickly after their task was completed and now joined the rest of the crew. All together they stood and watched the strange light until after playing about the mast for some ten minutes or so it disappeared as suddenly as it had come.

Somebody passed the spot where the four boys stood. It was too dark to make out who it was but the young sailors could hear him moaning and groaning to himself. “Dat Finn,” he groaned. “Oh, Lawdy, dat Finn. Ah knowed it all de time. We sho’ is goners now.”

“There goes Sam,” whispered Fred.

“Let him go,” said Grant shortly.

“Here comes the rain,” exclaimed John suddenly.

A few huge drops fell upon the deck and at the same time the darkness seemed to grow even deeper than before.

“There’s thunder too,” said George. A few low rumbles were heard, while off to the southwest appeared some random flashes of lightning.

“Where’s the storm?” demanded Fred. “So far nothing has happened. This stillness and darkness are getting on my nerves.”

“Wait,” counseled Grant, and scarcely had he spoken when there was a blinding flash of light. Almost at the same instant came a deafening peal of thunder. The sky directly overhead seemed to open up and down came the water in torrents.

Unconsciously the four boys drew closer together, so startled were they by this unexpected happening. It seemed as if the brig must have been struck but evidently it had escaped, for a second later there was another flash and report and the bare masts could be seen outlined against the inky sky.

Flash followed flash in quick succession. The whole ocean was lighted up by the constant blaze of light. Peal after peal rattled overhead with a noise so violent that it seemed as if the whole earth must be shaken. After a few moments the deluge of rain abated but the thunder and the lightning continued incessantly. So far there had not been a breath of air stirring; the Josephine lay motionless on the surface of the ocean and seemed to the people on board of her an excellent and easy target for the fury of the elements.

Several times one of the boys started to speak but his words were lost in the roar of the storm. They were almost blinded by the lightning but no one thought of going below. This was their first experience in a tropical storm and they were frightened. They would not have been ashamed to admit it either. They did not care to go to their bunks, for every one wanted to be on deck where he could see what was going on.

The lightning played all about the ship and it seemed a miracle that she was not hit. It seemed to run up and down the masts, across the yards and over the anchors, but thus far the Josephine had escaped. All this time there had been no wind; the brig lay motionless and powerless to move.

Suddenly there was a blinding flash and a ripping, tearing sound accompanied by the smell of burnt wood. So severe had been the blaze of light that every one was temporarily blinded by it and for a few seconds everything looked red. A moment later, however, when the crew had recovered somewhat from the shock a great shouting and running to and fro began.

“We’re hit,” cried Grant, the first to regain his senses.

“The ship’s on fire,” shouted Fred excitedly.

As he spoke a few red tongues of flame appeared from the hatch. Orders were instantly given and a brigade to fight the fire was formed almost at once. It was difficult work, however, for the night was so dark that it was nearly impossible to see one’s way around the deck. The flashes of lightning were about the only help afforded to the emergency firemen.

The four young friends were among the first to join in this work. Buckets were passed from hand to hand and the men worked feverishly. No one shirked for an instant and in fact no one dared to do so, for without their ship the men were nearly helpless, left to the mercy of the ocean.

“The wind’s coming up,” exclaimed Grant suddenly.

What he said was true. It was also raining hard once more, though the thunder and lightning had somewhat abated.

“The wind means our finish,” said Fred grimly. “We’ll never stop this fire now.”

“We must,” cried John doggedly. “We’re lost if we don’t.”

Every one redoubled his efforts but the fire gained steadily. Higher and higher leaped the flames and farther and farther astern they crept. The crew worked like demons but their task was hopeless. The fire was too mighty for them and it was soon evident to every one on board that the Josephine was a doomed ship.