author - "Morgan Robertson"
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there rang out overhead a startling cry from the crow's-nest:"Something ahead, sir--can't make it out." The first officer sprang to the engine-room telegraph and grasped the lever. "Sing out what you see," he roared. "Hard aport, sir--ship on the starboard tack--dead ahead," came the cry. "Port your wheel--hard over," repeated the first officer to the quartermaster at the helm--who answered and obeyed. Nothing as yet could be seen from the bridge. The

there rang out overhead a startling cry from the crow's-nest:"Something ahead, sir--can't make it out." The first officer sprang to the engine-room telegraph and grasped the lever. "Sing out what you see," he roared. "Hard aport, sir--ship on the starboard tack--dead ahead," came the cry. "Port your wheel--hard over," repeated the first officer to the quartermaster at the helm--who answered and obeyed. Nothing as yet could be seen from the bridge. The