On came the freighter; her hull was plainly discerned now,
picking the waves from under her bluff bows and throwing them
impatiently to either side.
Cries of joy and appeals for the succoring vessel to hurry sounded from
the yacht's decks.
As the vessel drew nearer. Miss Howland ran to the bridge and took her
father by the arm.
"Father!" she cried. "You must come now. Isn't there anything in your
cabin you want to save?" With a muttered "By George!" Mr. Howland
dived below and the girl faced Dan.
"Captain Merrithew--"
Oddington's voice thrilling in joyous, cadence sounded from beneath the
bridge.
"Virginia, Virginia, where are you? Oh, up there! Come down quickly!
Don't you see we are coming alongside? And Merrithew, old
chap--Virginia, will you come! You are to be put aboard after your
aunt. Hurry!" There was a half-note of proprietorship in his voice.
As the girl turned to leave, Dan gave the wheel to Terry and ran to the
deck with a speaking-trumpet in his hand. As he passed Oddington, who
had assisted Miss Howland from the bridge, he spoke to him quietly.
"The man with the broken leg leaves this ship first."
Below there was a dull crash and clouds of steam burst through the
ventilators and the engine-room gratings. The bulkhead had succumbed,
but no one cared now.
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