Pagina 328 de 416

The still air resounded with the snores of the exhausted men

forward in the forecastle.

Silently out of the darkness a dory came toward the schooner,

pulled by the brawny arms of two men. In the stern of the

oncoming boat sat a solitary figure, who strained his eyes toward

his destination.

The dory was within fifty yards of the Lass before the men on

deck became aware of its approach. Then, fearing some evil work

in connection with the last desperate days of fishing, they

rushed to the bulwarks and challenged the newcomers. They did not

see, a mile away, a schooner without lights gently rising and

falling on the oily sea.

"Who is that?" demanded one man, but he received no answer except

"A friend," and the boat continued its stealthy approach. It drew

alongside the ladder in the waist, and the man in the

stern-sheets rose. Kent of the Lass's crew leaned over the side

and threw the light of his lantern upon the man.

"By God," he cried like one who has seen a ghost, "it's the

skipper."