Excerpt from one of Uncle Arthur's ® books:

Some years ago a small steamer ran into a terrific storm in the South Atlantic Ocean. For three days the ship was tossed and buffeted by the mighty waves. One mast was carried away, and the steering gear was damaged.

Toward the close of the third day the storm increased in severity. The sky became blacker than ever, and the poor sailors realized that worse times were ahead. Suddenly, amid the crash of thunder, the cry was raised that the ship had sprung a leak.

In a moment the pumps were manned, but soon it was discovered that the water was rising in the hold faster than the men could pump it out. They worked desperately for another hour, but all in vain. Seeing that the task was hopeless and that the ship was doomed, the captain ordered that the boats be lowered.

To the dismay of all, it was found that there was but one of the boats that remained undamaged by the waves -- the rest were so battered that they would never stay afloat in such a sea. There was nothing to do but cram the entire crew into the one boat.

Quickly the men climbed in, filling the boat to its utmost capacity. There was just room enough to squeeze in the captain, who had bravely remained behind till the last.

He was about to step over the side of the ship to climb down to the boat, when, hearing a cry, he looked around. There, running toward him across the deck, was a strange young lad, dirty-faced and clothed in rags. He was a stowaway.

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