The Essential Edward Stratemeyer Collection. Stratemeyer Edward

was the announcement one of the officers made, in the presence of Dave and his chum. "A steam-pipe burst and one of the engineers was scalded, that is all. The pipe will be repaired as quickly as possible."

      "Will this delay us much?" asked Dave.

      "That I cannot say," was the answer.

      The rest of the day passed quietly enough. The steamer moved along slowly, for the engines were badly crippled. Dave, thinking only of the time in which he might reach his destination, walked the deck impatiently.

      "I'll wager this means another day," said he to his chum.

      "More than likely," was the reply. "Well, since it can't be helped you'll have to make the best of it."

      "Yes, I know, Roger, but I'd give almost anything to be in Christiania now."

      "I can appreciate how you feel. I'd be the same way, if I were in your place, Dave," was the kindly answer of the senator's son.

      That night a heavy snowstorm came on, and by morning all around the ship was completely shut out of sight. The steam-pipe had now been mended, but the engines had to be kept down at a low speed for fear of running into some other craft. The foghorn was blown constantly, and occasionally came an answering sound from another vessel. Once they ran close to a three-masted schooner, and then the bell on that ship was rung with a loud clamor.

      "That was a narrow escape," said Dave, after the schooner had drifted from sight.

      Towards night the snowstorm increased in violence. The wind piped merrily over the deck of the steamer and the boys were glad to remain inside. They turned in early, since there was nothing else to do.

      Dave could not sleep at first, but presently dropped into a light doze. When he awoke he sat up with a start. He had heard a strange noise, but now all was silent. He called to Roger, but received no reply. Then he called again and got up and lighted the room.

      "Roger, where are you?" he repeated, and then looked toward his chum's berth. To his amazement the berth was made up as if it had never been occupied, and Roger was gone.

      CHAPTER XVIII

      IN NORWAY AT LAST

      There is no denying the fact that Dave was startled. It was one thing to have Roger missing, it was quite another to have his chum gone and have the berth made up as if it had never been occupied.

      "He went to bed--I saw him go," muttered the boy from the country to himself. "Am I dreaming, or what can the matter be?"

      The more Dave thought over the affair the more was he puzzled. As quickly as he could, he put on some of his clothing and slipped on his shoes. Then he opened the stateroom door and stepped out into the passageway leading to the main saloon.

      There was a dim light burning outside, and nobody appeared to be in sight. Dave looked up and down the passageway eagerly, and even stepped to one of the corners. Then he walked to the main saloon, with its big sofas and easy-chairs, and its grand piano. Not a soul was in sight anywhere.

      "Well, if this isn't the queerest yet," he murmured, and pinched himself, to make certain that he was not dreaming. He walked to one end of the saloon and then to the other, and then started for the stairs leading out on deck.

      At that moment there came an extra-heavy gust of wind and the steamer rocked violently. Dave was thrown on his side and fell headlong over the end of a sofa. As he went down he heard several cries, one in a voice that sounded familiar to him.

      "That must have been Roger," he told himself. "Where can he be?" And then he called out loudly: "Roger! Roger Morr! Where are you?"

      The boat continued to toss and pitch, and now Dave had all he could do to keep his feet. When he reached the entrance to the main deck he was stopped by one of the under officers.

      "Too rough to go out there."

      "I am looking for my friend," answered Dave, and told of the disappearance of the senator's son.

      "Perhaps he's walking in his sleep," suggested the officer.

      "That may be it!" cried Dave. "Queer I didn't think of it. He told me he got up once in a great while."

      "If he was walking in his sleep the lurching of the boat must have awakened him--if he cried out. Maybe he went back to his stateroom," continued the ship's official.

      "I'll go back and see."

      Not without some difficulty Dave returned to his stateroom. The steamer was pitching and tossing dreadfully, and the wind made a wild whistling sound overhead. He heard the overturning of a table or a chair and the crash of glassware.

      "We are going to have a tough night of it," he reasoned. "Guess further sleep will be out of the question."

      Hoping he would find his chum in the stateroom, Dave returned to the apartment. Here another surprise was in store for him. The door was locked from the inside. He rapped loudly several times.

      "Hello! Who's there?" came in a sleepy voice.

      "Roger, is that you? Let me in."

      "Dave, I declare! Why, I thought you were in your berth."

      The senator's son came to the door and opened it. Dave entered the stateroom, which was dark.

      "Roger, where have you been?" he demanded.

      "So you knew I went out, did you?" asked the senator's son, in a voice that showed he was vexed. "I thought I went out and came back without your knowing it. I thought you were still in your berth."

      "I got up, made a light, and found you gone--and the berth made up as if you hadn't used it." Dave paused and looked at his chum, who had just lit up.

      "Well--er--I might as well tell you. I must have been walking in my sleep," stammered Roger, and got red. "I'm as bad as Shadow Hamilton."

      "Well, I hope you didn't steal anything, as he did," added Dave hastily, referring to an unfortunate incident already well known to my old readers.

      "I don't think I did--but I don't know where I went."

      "You made up your bed, too."

      "Did I? That's queer."

      "And you don't know where you went at all, Roger?"

      "No, I haven't the slightest idea."

      "Were you dreaming?"

      "I think I was--I'm not sure. It was something about Nick Jasniff--he was trying to take something from me and I got afraid of him. That is all I can remember."

      "I thought I heard you scream--when the vessel gave that awful lurch a few minutes ago."

      "That woke me up, and I found myself in one of the passageways not far from here. I was dazed by the tumble I received, but got back here all right."

      "After this you had better tie yourself to the bed," was Dave's final remark, and then he turned in again and the light was again extinguished.

      But anything more than fitful dozes could not be had. The North Sea is well known for its violent storms during the winter months, and this one proved to be a "corker," as Dave called it afterwards. The waves were lashed into a tremendous fury, and some broke over the steamer's deck with terrific force, one carrying away a twenty-foot section of the forward rail. The high wind was accompanied by a snow that was as fine and hard as salt, and this sifted through every crack the windows and doors afforded.

      "No port to-day," said Dave; and he was right. To run close to the Norwegian coast in such a high wind, and with so much snow flying, was dangerous, and they had to remain for twenty-four hours longer at the