A LIST TO STARBOARD By F. Hopkinson Smith 1909 I A short, square chunk of a man walked into a shipping office on the EastSide, and inquired for the Manager of the Line. He had kindly blue eyes, a stub nose, and a mouth that shut to like a rat-trap, and stayedshut. Under his chin hung a pair of half-moon whiskers which framed hisweather-beaten face as a spike collar frames a dog's. "You don't want to send this vessel to sea again, " blurted out thechunk. "She ought to go to the dry-dock. Her boats haven't had abrushful of paint for a year; her boilers are caked clear to hertop flues, and her pumps won't take care of her bilge water. Chartersomething else and lay her up. " The Manager turned in his revolving chair and faced him. He was theopposite of the Captain in weight, length, and thickness--a slim, well-groomed, puffy-cheeked man of sixty with a pair of uncertain, badlyaimed eyes and a voice like the purr of a cat. "Oh, my dear Captain, you surely don't mean what you say. She isperfectly seaworthy and sound. Just look at her inspection--" and hepassed him the certificate. "No--I don't want to see it! I know 'em by heart: it's a lie, whateverit says. Give an inspector twenty dollars and he's stone blind. " The Manager laughed softly. He had handled too many rebellious captainsin his time; they all had a protest of some kind--it was either thecrew, or the grub, or the coal, or the way she was stowed. Then he addedsoftly, more as a joke than anything else: "Not afraid, are you, Captain?" A crack started from the left-hand corner of the Captain's mouth, crossed a fissure in his face, stopped within half an inch of his stubnose, and died out in a smile of derision. "What I'm afraid of is neither here nor there. There's cattleaboard--that is, there will be by to-morrow night; and there's a lot ofpassengers booked, some of 'em women and children. It isn't honest toship 'em and you know it! As to her boilers send for the Chief Engineer. He'll tell you. You call it taking risks; I call it murder!" "And so I understand you refuse to obey the orders of the Board?--andyet she's got to sail on the 16th if she sinks outside. " "When I refuse to obey the orders of the Board I'll tell the Board, notyou. And when I do tell 'em I'll tell 'em something else, and that is, that this chartering of worn-out tramps, painting 'em up and putting 'eminto the Line, has got to stop, or there'll be trouble. " "But this will be her last trip, Captain. Then we'll overhaul her. " "I've heard that lie for a year. She'll run as long as they can insureher and her cargo. As for the women and children, I suppose they don'tcount--" and he turned on his heel and left the office. On the way out he met the Chief Engineer. "Do the best you can, Mike, " he said; "orders are we sail on the 16th. " ***** On the fourth day out this conversation took place in the smoking-roombetween a group of passengers. "Regular tub, this ship!" growled the Man-Who-Knew-It-All to the BumActor. "Screw out of the water every souse she makes; lot of dirtysailors skating over the decks instead of keeping below where theybelong; Chief Engineer loafing in the Captain's room every chance hegets--there he goes now--and it's the second time since breakfast. Andthe Captain is no better! And just look at the accommodations--threestewards and a woman! What's that to look after thirty-five passengers?Half the time I have to wait an hour to get something to eat--such as itis. And my bunk wasn't made up yesterday until plumb night. That bunchin the steerage must be having a hard time. " "We get all we pay for, " essayed the Travelling Man. "She ain't riggedfor cabin passengers, and the Captain don't want 'em. Didn't wantto take me--except our folks had a lot of stuff aboard. Had enoughpassengers, he said. " "Well, he took the widow and her two kids"--continued theMan-Who-Knew-It-All--"and they were the last to get aboard. Half thetime he's playing nurse instead of looking after his ship. Had 'em allon the bridge yesterday. " "He _had_ to take 'em, " protested the Travelling Man. "She was put underhis charge by his owners--so one of the stewards told me. " "Oh!--_had to_, did he! Yes--I've been there before. No usetalking--this line's got to be investigated, and I'm going to do theinvestigating as soon as I get ashore, and don't you forget it! What'syour opinion?" The Bum Actor made no reply. He had been cold and hungry too many daysand nights to find fault with anything. But for the generosity of a fewfriends he would still be tramping the streets, sleeping where he could. Three meals a day--four, if he wanted them--and a bed in a room all tohimself instead of being one in a row of ten, was heaven to him. Whatthe Captain, or the Engineer, or the crew, or anybody else did, wasof no moment, so he got back alive. As to the widow's children, hehad tried to pick up an acquaintance with them himself--especiallythe boy--but she had taken them away when she saw how shabby were hisclothes. The Texas Cattle Agent now spoke up. He was a tall, raw-boned man, witha red chin-whisker and red, weather-scorched face, whose clothing lookedas if it had been pulled out of shape in the effort to accommodateitself to the spread of his shoulders and round of his thighs. Histrousers were tucked in his boots, the straps hanging loose. Hegenerally sat by himself in one corner of the cramped smoking-room, andseldom took part in the conversation. The Bum Actor and he had exchangedconfidences the night before, and the Texan therefore felt justified inanswering in his friend's stead. "You're way off, friend, " he said to the Man-Who-Knew-It-All. "Thereain't nothin' the matter with the Line, nor the ship, nor the Captain. This is my sixth trip aboard of her, and I know! They had a strike amongthe stevedores the day we sailed, and then, too, we've got a scrub lotof stokers below, and the Captain's got to handle 'em just so. That kindgets ugly when anything happens. I had sixty head of cattle aboard hereon my last trip over, and some of 'em got loose in a storm, and therewas hell to pay with the crew till things got straightened out. I ain'tmuch on shootin' irons, but they came handy that time. I helped and Iknow. Got a couple in my cabin now. Needn't tell me nothin' about theCaptain. He's all there when he's wanted, and it don't take him more'n aminute, either, to get busy. " The door of the smoking-room opened and the object of his eulogystrolled in. He was evidently just off the bridge, for the thrash ofthe spray still glistened on his oilskins and on his gray, half-moonwhiskers. That his word was law aboard ship, and that he enforced itin the fewest words possible, was evident in every line of his faceand every tone of his voice. If he deserved an overhauling it certainlywould not come from any one on board--least of all from Carhart--theMan-Who-Knew-It-All. Loosening the thong that bound his so'wester to his chin, he slapped ittwice across a chair back, the water flying in every direction, and thenfaced the room. "Mr. Bonner. " "Yes, sir, " answered the big-shouldered Texan, rising to his feet. "I'd like to see you for a minute, " and without another word the two menleft the room and made their way in silence down the wet deck to wherethe Chief Engineer stood. "Mike, this is Mr. Bonner; you remember him, don't you? You can rely onhis carrying out any orders you give him. If you need another man lethim pick him out--" and he continued on to his cabin. Once there the Captain closed the door behind him, shutting out thepound and swash of the sea; took from a rack over his bunk a roll ofcharts, spread one on a table and with his head in his hands studiedit carefully. The door opened and the Chief Engineer again stood besidehim. The Captain raised his head. "Will Bonner serve?" he asked. "Yes, glad to, and he thinks he's got another man. He's what he callsout his way a 'tenderfoot, ' he says, but he's game and can be dependedon. Have you made up your mind where she'll cross?"--and he bent overthe chart. The Captain picked up a pair of compasses, balanced them for a moment inhis fingers, and with the precision of a seamstress threading a needle, dropped the points astride a wavy line known as the steamer track. The engineer nodded: "That will give us about twenty-two hours leeway, " he said gravely, "ifwe make twelve knots. " "Yes, if you make twelve knots: can you do it?" "I can't say; depends on that gang of shovellers and the way theybehave. They're a tough lot--jail-birds and tramps, most of 'em. Ifthey get ugly there ain't but one thing left; that, I suppose, you won'tobject to. " The Captain paused for a moment in deep thought, glanced at the pinprick in the chart, and said with a certain forceful meaning in hisvoice: "No--not if there's no other way. " The Chief Engineer waited, as if for further reply, replaced his cap, and stepped out into the wind. He had got what he came for, and he hadgot it straight. With the closing of the door the Captain rolled up the chart, laid itin its place among the others, readjusted the thong of his so'wester, stopped for a moment before a photograph of his wife and child, lookedat it long and earnestly, and then mounted the stairs to the bridge. With the exception that the line of his mouth had straightened andthe knots in his eyebrows tightened, he was, despite the smoking-roomcritics, the same bluff, determined sea-dog who had defied the Managerthe week before. II When Bonner, half an hour later, returned to the smoking-room (he, too, had caught the splash of the sea, the spray drenching the rail), the BumActor crossed over and took the seat beside him. The Texan was the onlypassenger who had spoken to him since he came aboard, and he had alreadybegun to feel lonely. This time he started the conversation by brushingthe salt spray from the Agent's coat. "Got wet, didn't you? Too bad! Wait till I wipe it off, " and he draggeda week-old handkerchief from his pocket. Then seeing that the Texan tookno notice of the attention, he added, "What did the Captain want?" The Texan did not reply. He was evidently absorbed in something outsidehis immediate surroundings, for he continued to sit with bent back, hiselbows on his knees, his eyes on the floor. Again the question was repeated: "What did the Captain want? Nothing the matter, is there?" Fear hadalways been his master--fear of poverty mostly--and it was poverty inthe worst form to others if he failed to get home. This thought hadhaunted him night and day. "Yes and no. Don't worry--it'll all come out right. You seem nervous. " "I am. I've been through a lot and have almost reached the end of myrope. Have you got a wife at home?" The Texan shook his head. "Well, if you had you'd understand better than I can tell you. I have, and athree-year-old boy besides. I'd never have left them if I'd known. I came over under contract for a six months' engagement and we werestranded in Pittsburg and had hard work getting back to New York. Someof them are there yet. All I want now is to get home--nothing else willsave them. Here's a letter from her I don't mind showing you--you cansee for yourself what I'm up against. The boy never was strong. " The big Texan read it through carefully, handed it back without acomment or word of sympathy, and then, with a glance around him, as ifin fear of being overheard, asked: "Can you keep your nerve in a mix-up?" "Do you mean a fight?" queried the Actor. "Maybe. " "I don't like fights--never did. " Anything that would imperil his safereturn was to be avoided. "I neither--but sometimes you've got to. Are you handy with a gun?" "Why?" "Nothing--I'm only asking. " Carhart, the Man-Who-Knew-It-All, here lounged over from his seat by thetable and dropped into a chair beside them, cutting short his reply. TheTexan gave a significant look at the Actor, enforcing his silence, andthen buried his face in a newspaper a month old. Carhart spread his legs, tilted his head back on the chair, slanted hisstiff-brim hat until it made a thatch for his nose, and began one of hiscustomary growls: to the room--to the drenched port-holes--to the brimof his hat; as a half-asleep dog sometimes does when things have gonewrong with him--or he dreams they have. "This ship reminds me of another old tramp, the _Persia_, " he drawled. "Same scrub crew and same cut of a Captain. Hadn't been for two of thepassengers and me, we'd never got anywhere. Had a fire in the lower holdin a lot of turpentine, and when they put that out we found her cargohad shifted and she was down by the head about six feet. Then the crewmade a rush for the boats and left us with only four leaky ones to goa thousand miles. They'd taken 'em all, hadn't been for me and anotherfellow who stood over them with a gun. " The Bum Actor raised his eyes. "What happened then?" he asked in a nervous voice. "Oh, we pitched in and righted things and got into port at last. But theCaptain was no good; he'd a-left with the crew if we'd let him. " "Is the shifting of a cargo a serious matter?" continued the Actor. "This is my second crossing and I'm not much up on such things. " "Depends on the weather, " interpolated a passenger. "And on how she's stowed, " continued Car-hart. "I've been mistrustingthis ship ain't plumb on her keel. You can tell that from the way shefalls off after each wave strikes her. I have been out on deck lookingthings over and she seems to me to be down by the stern more than sheought. " "Maybe she'll be lighter when more coal gets out of her, " suggestedanother passenger. "Yes, but she's listed some to starboard. I watched her awhile thismorning. She ain't loaded right, or she's loaded _wrong, -purpose_. Thatoccurs sometimes with a gang of striking stevedores. " The noon whistle blew and the talk ended with the setting of everybody'swatch, except the Bum Actor's, whose timepiece decorated a shop-windowin the Bowery. ***** That night one of those uncomfortable rumors, started doubtless byCarhart's talk, shivered through the ship, its vibrations even reachingthe widow lying awake in her cabin. This said that some hundreds ofbarrels of turpentine had broken loose and were smashing everythingbelow. If any one of them rolled into the furnaces an explosion wouldfollow which would send them all to eternity. That this absurdity wasimmediately denied by the purser, who asserted with some vehemence thatthere was not a gallon of turpentine aboard, did not wholly allay theexcitement, nor did it stifle the nervous anxiety which had now takenpossession of the passengers. As the day wore on several additional rumors joined those alreadyextant. One was dropped in the ear of the Texan by the Bum Actor as thetwo stood on the upper deck watching the sea, which was rapidly falling. "I got so worried I thought I'd go down into the engine room myself, "he whispered. "I'm just back. Something's wrong down there, or I'mmistaken. I wish you'd go and find out. I knew that turpentine yarn wasa lie, but I wanted to be sure, so I thought I'd ask one of the stokerswho had come up for a little air. He was about to answer me when theChief Engineer came down from the bridge, where he had been talking tothe Captain, and ordered the man below before he had time to fill hislungs. I waited a little while, hoping he or some of the crew wouldcome up again, and then I went down the ladder myself. When I got to thefirst landing I came bump up against the Chief Engineer. He was standingin the gangway fooling with a revolver he had in his hand as if he'dbeen cleaning it. 'I'll have to ask you to get back where you camefrom, ' he said. 'This ain't no place for passengers'--and up I came. What do you think it means? I'd get ugly, too, if he kept me in thatheat and never let me get a whiff of air. I tell you, that's an awfulplace down there. Suppose you go and take a look. Your knowing theCaptain might make some difference. " "Were any of the stokers around?" "No--none of them. I didn't see a soulbut the Chief Engineer, and I didn't see him more than a minute. " The big Texan moved closer to the rail and again scrutinized thesky-line. He had kept this up all the morning, his eye searchingthe horizon as he moved from one side of the ship to the other. Theinspection over, he slipped his arm through the Actor's and started himdown the deck toward the Cattle Agent's cabin. When the two emerged theTexan's face still wore the look which had rested on it since thetime the Captain had called him from the smoking-room. The Actor'scountenance, however, had undergone a change. All his nervous timiditywas gone; his lips were tightly drawn, the line of the jaw moredetermined. He looked like a man who had heard some news which had firststeadied and then solidified him. These changes often overtake men ofsensitive, highly strung natures. On the way back they encountered the Captain accompanied by the ChiefEngineer. The two were heading for the saloon, the bugle having soundedfor luncheon. As they passed by with their easy, swinging gait, thepassengers watched them closely. If there was danger in the air thesetwo officers, of all men, would know it. The Captain greeted the Texanwith a significant look, waited until the Actor had been presented, looked the Texan's friend over from head to foot, and then with a nod toseveral of the others halted opposite a steamer chair in which sat thewidow and her two children--one a baby and the other a boy of four--aplump, hugable little fellow, every inch of whose surface invited acaress. "Please stay a minute and let me talk to you, Captain, " the widowpleaded. "I've been so worried. None of these stories are true, arethey? There can't be any danger or you would have told me--wouldn'tyou?" The Captain laughed heartily, so heartily that even the Chief Engineerlooked at him in astonishment. "What stories do you hear, my dear lady?" "That the steamer isn't loaded properly?" Again the Captain laughed, this time under the curls of the chubby boywhom he had caught in his arms and was kissing eagerly. "Not loaded right?" he puffed at last when he got his breath. "Well, well, what a pity! That yarn, I guess, comes from some of the navigatorsin the smoking-room. They generally run the ship. Here, you littlerascal, turn out your toes and dance a jig for me. No--no--not thatway--this way-r-out with them! Here, let me show you. One--two--offwe go. Now the pigeon wing and the double twist and the rat-tat-tat, rat-tat-tat--that's the way, my lad!" He had the boy's hands now, the child shouting with laughter, theoverjoyed mother clapping her hands as the big burly Captain with hisface twice as red from the exercise, danced back and forth across thedeck, the passengers forming a ring about them. "There!" sputtered the Captain, all out of breath from the exercise, ashe dropped the child back into the widow's arms. "Now all of you comedown to luncheon. The weather is getting better every minute. The glassis rising and we are going to have a fine night. " Carhart, who had watched the whole performance with an ill-concealedsneer on his face, muttered to the man next him: "What did I tell you? He's a pretty kind of a Captain, ain't he? He'smashed on the widow just as I told you. Smoking-room yarn, is it? I betI could pick out half a dozen men right in them chairs who could runthe ship as well as he does. Maybe we'll have to take charge, afterall--don't you think so, Mr. Bonner?" The Texan smiled grimly: "I'll let you do the picking, Mr. Carhart--"and with his hand on the Actor's arm, the two went below. A counter-current now swept through the ship. If anything was reallythe matter the Captain would not be dancing jigs, nor would he leavethe bridge for his meals. This, like all other counter-currents--wave orotherwise--tossed up a bobble of dispute when the two clashed. Therewas no doubt about it: Carhart had been "talking through hishat"--"shooting off his mouth"--the man was "a gas bag, " etc. , etc. Whenappeal for confirmation was made to the Texan and the Actor, who nowseemed inseparable, neither made reply. They evidently did not care tobe mixed up in what Bonner characterized with a grim smile as "more hotair. " All through the meal the Captain kept up his good-natured mood; chattingwith the widow who sat on his right, the baby in her lap; making a pigof a lemon and some tooth-picks for the boy, who had crawled up intohis arms; exchanging nods and smiles down the length of the table withseveral new arrivals, or congratulating those nearest to him on theirrecovery after the storm, ending by carrying both boy and baby to theupper deck--so that he might "not forget how to handle" his own when hegot back, he laughed in explanation. III Luncheon over, the passengers, many of whom had been continuously intheir berths, began to crowd the decks. These soon discovered that theship was not on an even keel; a fact confirmed when attention was calledto the slant of the steamer chairs and the roll of an orange toward thescuppers. Explanation was offered by the Texan, who argued that thewind had hauled, and being then abeam had given her a list to starboard. This, while not wholly satisfactory to the more experienced, allayedthe fears of the women--there were two or three on board beside thewidow--who welcomed the respite from the wrench and stagger of theprevious hours. Attention was now drawn by a nervous passenger to a gang of sailorsunder the First Officer, who were at work overhauling the boats on theforward deck, immediately under the eyes of the Captain who had returnedto the bridge, as well as to an approaching wall of fog which, while hewas speaking, had blanketed the ship, sending two of the boat gang ona run to the bow. The fog-horn also blew continuously, almost withoutintermission. Now and then it too would give three short, sharp snorts, as if of warning. The passengers had now massed themselves in groups, some touch ofsympathy, or previous acquaintance, or trait of courage but recentlydiscovered, having drawn them together. Again the Captain passed downthe deck. This time he stopped to light a cigarette from a passenger'scigar, remarking as he did so that it was "as thick as pea soup on thebridge, but he thought it would lighten before morning. " Then haltingbeside the chair of an old lady who had but recently appeared on deck, he congratulated her on her recovery and kept on his way to the boats. The widow, however, was still anxious. "What are they doing with the boats?" she asked, her eyes following theCaptain's disappearing figure. "Only overhauling them, madam, " spoke up the Texan, who had stationedhimself near her chair. "But isn't that unusual!" she inquired in a tremulous voice. "No, madam, just precaution, and always a safe one in a fog. Collisioncomes so quick sometimes they don't have time even to clear the davits. " "But the sailors are carrying up boxes and kegs and putting them inthe boats; what's that for?" broke in another passenger, who had beenleaning over the forward rail. "Grub and water, I guess, " returned the Texan. "It's a thousand miles tothe nearest land, and there ain't no bakery on the way that I know of. Can't be too careful when there's women and babies aboard, especiallylittle fellows like these--" and he ran his hand through the boy'scurls. "The Captain don't take no chances. That's what I like him for. " Again the current of hope submerged the current of despair. The slant ofthe deck, however, increased, although the wind had gone down; somuch so that the steamer chairs had to be lashed to the iron hand-holdskirting the wall of the upper cabins. So had the fog, which was now sodense that it hid completely the work of the boat gang. With the passing of the afternoon and the approach of night, thusdeepening the gloom, there was added another and a new anxiety to thedrone of the fog-horn. This was a Coston signal which flashed from thebridge, flooding the deck with light and pencilling masts and rigging inlines of fire. These flashes kept up at intervals of five minutes, thecolors changing from time to time. An indefinable fear now swept through the vessel. The doubters andscoffers from the smoking-room who stood huddled together near theforward companion-way talked in whispers. The slant of the deck theyargued might be due to a shift of the cargo--a situation serious, butnot dangerous--but why burn Costons? The only men who seemed to beholding their own, and who were still calm and undisturbed, were theTexan and the Actor. These, during the conference, had moved toward theflight of steps leading to the bridge and had taken their positions nearthe bottom step, but within reach of the widow's chair. Once the Actorloosened his coat and slipped in his hand as if to be sure of somethinghe did not want to lose. While this was going on the Captain left the bridge in charge of theSecond Officer and descended to his cabin. Reaching over his bunk, heunhooked the picture of his wife and child, tore it from its frame, looked at it intently for a moment, and then, with a sigh, slid it intoan inside pocket. This done, he stripped off his wet storm coat, thrusthis arms into a close-fitting reefing jacket, unhooked a holster fromits place, dropped its contents into his outside pocket, and walkedslowly down the flight of steps to where the Texan and the Actor stoodwaiting. Then, facing the passengers, and in the same tone of voice with which hewould have ordered a cup of coffee from a steward, he said: "My friends, I find it necessary to abandon the ship. There is timeenough and no necessity for crowding. The boats are provisioned forthirty days. The women and children will go first: this order will beliterally carried out; those who disobey it will have to be dealt within another way. This, I hope, you will not make necessary. I will alsotell you that I believe we are still within the steamer zone, althoughthe fog and weather have prevented any observation. Do you stay here, madam. I'll come for you when I am ready--" and he laid his handencouragingly on the widow's arm. With this he turned to the Texan and the Actor: "You understand, both of you, do you not, Mr. Bonner? You and yourfriend will guard the aft companion-way, and help the Chief Engineertake care of the stokers and the steerage. I and the First Officer willfill the boats. " The beginning of a panic is like the beginning of a fire: first a curlof smoke licking through a closed sash, then a rush of flame, and then aroar freighted with death. Its subduing is along similar lines: A sharpcommand clearing the way, concentrated effort, and courage. Here the curl of smoke was an agonized shriek from an elderly woman whofell fainting on the deck; the rush of flame was a wild surge of menhurling themselves toward the boats, and the roar which meant death wasthe frenzied throng of begrimed half-naked stokers and crazed emigrantswho were wedged in a solid mass in the companion-way leading to theupper deck. The subduing was the same. [Illustration: Back, all of you ] "Back, all of you!" shouted the Engineer. "The first man who passesthat door without my permission I'll kill! Five of you at a time--nocrowding--keep 'em in line, Mr. Bonner--you and your friend!" The Texan and the Bum Actor were within three feet of him as hespoke--the Texan as cool as if he were keeping count of a drove ofsteers, except that he tallied with the barrel of a six-shooter insteadof a note-book and pencil. The Bum Actor's face was deathly white andhis pistol hand trembled a little, but he did not flinch. He ranged thelucky ones in line farther along, and kept them there. "Anything toget home, " he had told the Texan when he had slipped Bonner's otherrevolver, an hour before, into his pocket. On the saloon deck the flame of fear was still raging, although thesailors and the three stewards were so many moving automatons underthe First Officer's orders. The widow, with her baby held tight to herbreast, had not moved from where the Captain had placed her, nor hadshe uttered a moan. The crisis was too great for anything but implicitobedience. The Captain had kept his word, and had told her when dangerthreatened; she must now wait for what God had in store for her. The boystood by the First Officer; he had clapped his hands and laughed when hesaw the first boat swung clear of the davits. Carhart was the color of ashes and could hardly articulate. He had edgedup close to the gangway where the boats were to be filled. Twice he hadtried to wedge himself between the First Officer and the rail and twicehad been pushed back--the last time with a swing that landed him againsta pile of steamer chairs. All this time the fog-horn had kept up its monotonous din, the Costonsflaring at intervals. The stoppage of either would only have added tothe terror now partly allayed by the Captain's encouraging talk, whichwas picked up and repeated all over the ship. The first boat was now ready for passengers. "This way, madam--you first--" the Captain said to the widow. "You mustgo alone with the baby, and I--" He did not finish the sentence. Something had caught his ear--somethingthat made him lunge heavily toward the rail, his eyes searching thegloom, his hand cupped to his ear. "Hold hard, men!" he cried. "Keep still-all of you!" [Illustration: Hold hard men ] Out of the stillness of the night came the moan of a distant fog-horn. This was followed by a wild cheer from the men at the boat davits. Atthe same instant a dim, far-away light cut its way through the blackvoid, burned for a moment, and disappeared like a dying star. Another cheer went up. This time the watch on the foretop and the menastride the nose sent it whirling through the choke and damp with anadded note of joy. The Captain turned to the widow. "That's her--that's the _St. Louis!_ I've been hoping for her all day, and didn't give up until the fog shut in. " "And we can stay here!" "No--we haven't a moment to lose. Our fires are nearly out now. We'vebeen in a sinking condition for forty-eight hours. We sprung a leakwhere we couldn't get at it, and our pumps are clogged. "Stand aside, men! All ready, madam! No, you can't manage themboth--give me the boy, --I'll bring him in the last boat. "