"Thank you," she said, quietly.

"By gad, she's got grit!" muttered the young man, scrambling forward

over the prostrate forms of the other passengers. "I wonder if all the

women in the world are this way?" He was remembering the bravery of

Polly Candage.

There was a huge coil of rope in the bow, spare cable stored there. Mayo

made fast the free end, working as rapidly as he was able, and bundled

about half the coil into a compact mass--a knob at the end of some ten

fathoms of line. And to this knob he lashed oars and the mast he found

stowed in the boat. He knew that if they did get free from the schooner

only an efficient sea-anchor or drag would keep the yawl right side up.

When this task was finished he crouched low in the bow and looked at the

girl.

"We're about ready to start on our journey," he called to her. "If I

don't see you again, good-by!"

"I shall not say good-by to you, Captain Mayo--not yet!"




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