It was now half-past five, and half-an-hour later, when the last of the day lost itself in a dim and furious twilight, I sighted a third boat.

It was bottom up, and there was no sign of its crew.

Wolf Larsen repeated his manoeuvre, holding off and then rounding up to windward and drifting down upon it.

But this time he missed by forty feet, the boat passing astern.
"Number four boat!" Oofty-Oofty cried, his keen eyes reading its number in the one second when it lifted clear of the foam, and upside down.
It was Henderson's boat and with him had been lost Holyoak and Williams, another of the deep-water crowd.

Lost they indubitably were; but the boat remained, and Wolf Larsen made one more reckless effort to recover it.