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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

Weighted by sodden clothes
even that short distance tested me, yet her efforts, small as they
were, halted the boat's drift, and I made it, almost breathless, when I
finally gripped the gunwale, and hung on to regain a measure of
strength.
"Oh, thank God!" she exclaimed, staring at me, "I--I thought you were
lost."
"My clothes are like lead," I panted. "They dragged me down twice.
That's over with now."
"But--but what could I have done if you had not come!"
"Don't think of it; the danger is all over. You need n't pull on the
oar; just hold it straight out; that will keep the boat's head forward."
"Can you get over the side?"
"In a moment---yes; as soon as I get my breath back. Did you notice
any alarm on board the _Sea Gull_?"
She shaded her eyes with one hand, holding the heavy oar against her
body, and looked ahead.
"No; I was not thinking about that--only of your danger, and my awful
position. I was never so frightened before."
"Can you still see the vessel?"
"Just a shadow against the sky. I--I think she is moving straight
ahead."
"Then we have not been missed, nor the mate. Doubtless he was going
below for his supper. Now lean well over to port--yes, the left--and
balance the boat; I am going to climb in.


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