The compass in its binnacle gave him direction.
"Pit number one!" he sharply exclaimed into the phone connecting therewith.
"Yes, sir!" came back the observer's voice.
"Keep a sharp eye out for _Niss'rosh_! Remember, two red lights showing there!" "Yes, sir.

I'll report as soon as I pick them up." The Master, knowing his course thither should be S.E.by S., drew the liner to that exact angle.

Under his skilled touch at the wheel, the compass needle steadied to the dot.

The searchlight lanced its way ahead, into the vague drift of the smoke arising from New York.
"Sight it, yet ?" demanded the Master, presently.
"Yes, sir.

Just picked it up.