Sunday morning and no land in sight! Reflect for a moment.'
Kenyon's face brightened.
'Ah,' he cried, 'I see what you mean now! Miss Brewster's cable message
will not appear in this morning's _New York Argus_.'
'Of course it will not; and don't you see, also, that when we do arrive
you will have an equal chance in the race. If we get in before next
Sunday, your telegram to the London people will go as quickly as her
cable despatch to New York; thus you will be saved the humiliation of
seeing the substance of your report in the London papers before the
directors see the report itself. It is not much, to be sure, but, still,
it puts you on equal terms; while if we had got into Queenstown last
night that would have been impossible.'
Kenyon laughed.
'Well,' he said, 'for such a result the cause is rather tremendous, isn't
it? It is something like burning down the house to roast the pig!'
Shortly after ten o'clock the atmosphere cleared, and showed in the
distance a steamer, westward bound. The vessel evidently belonged to one
of the great ocean lines. The moment it was sighted there fluttered up to
the masthead a number of signal-flags, and people crowded to the side of
the ship to watch the effect on the outgoing vessel. Minute after minute
passed, but there was no response from the other liner. People watched
her with breathless anxiety, as though their fate depended on her
noticing their signals. Of course, everybody thought she must see them,
but still she steamed westward.
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