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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

That will be
valuable service."
"What will you do?"
"Rig up the sail the best I can in the dark; there is breeze enough to
give us some headway, and ship the rudder."
"Do you know which direction to steer?"
"Not now, but I have a compass in my pocket; a northeast course would
be sure to bring us to the coast, and towns are scattered along. I
found that out from Broussard yesterday."
She made no response, bending over with the tin dipper, and I went at
my task, straightening out ropes so they would work easily through the
blocks. In spite of the darkness I was not greatly hampered, as
everything had been stored away in shipshape manner, and came
conveniently to hand. The wind freshened perceptibly while I was thus
engaged, veering into the southeast, so that all the cloth I dare
spread was the jib and a closely reefed mainsail. The boat acted a bit
cranky, but, confident she would stand up under this canvas, I crawled
back to the tiller, eased off the sheet a trifle more, and waited
results. We shipped a bucket full of water, and then settled into a
good pace, a cream of surge along our port gunwale, and a white wake
astern. The woman kept on bailing steadily, until the planks were dry,
and then crept cautiously back to the thwart just in front of me,
leaning over slightly to keep clear of the occasional flap of the sail.


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