"I think we are going to have a fine trip over," said the senator's son, on the evening of the second day. "Don't you think so, Dave?"
"I'll tell you better when we reach the other side," answered the boy from the country, with a laugh. "I don't know much about the Atlantic. When we were traveling on the Pacific I know the weather changed very quickly sometimes."
That very night came a heavy blow and by morning the seas were running high. The air was piercing cold, and everybody was glad enough to remain in the cabins. Dave, returning from the ship's library with a volume on travels in England, found Roger had gone to their stateroom.
"Seasick, I'll wager a new hat," he said to himself, and hurried to the apartment. Sure enough, the senator's son was on his berth and as pale as death.
"Can I do anything?" asked Dave, kindly.
"Nothing," groaned Roger. "Only make the boat stop for a minute—just one minute, Dave!"
"I would if I could, Roger. But maybe you'll get over it soon," he added, sympathetically.
"Perhaps—after my insides have had their merry-go-round ride," was the mournful reply.
Fortunately the heavy blow did not last long, and by the morning of the fourth day the Atlantic was comparatively calm. Dave had not been seasick in the least, and he was glad to see his chum
