"The weather has been in our favor," said Captain Sanders. "If it keeps on like this, we'll make Barbados in record time."
"Billy Dill said he smelt a storm," returned Dave.
"Hum! Is that so?" mused the captain. "Well, he's a pretty good weather-sharp, I must confess. I'll take another look at the glass," and he walked off to do so.
The storm came up during the night, and Dave was awakened to find himself rolling from one side of his berth to the other. He arose, and as he did so he heard an exclamation from Roger.
"What is it, Roger?" he called out.
"I—I guess I'm seasick!" answered the senator's son. "Gracious, how this old tub rolls!"
"Don't call the Golden Eagle a tub!" returned Phil. "Say, can I do anything for you?" he went on sympathetically.
"Yes, tell Captain Sanders to keep the boat from rocking."
"Better lie down again, Roger," said Dave, entering the stateroom. "It's a little better than standing up."
"Oh, I—I guess I'm not so very ba-badly off," gasped the sufferer. "But I do wish the storm was over."
"We all wish that."
But, instead of clearing away, the storm in-
