Newport daily independent., 1902-10-04
AChance for a Hero By GEORGE w. ROSE.
MISS DOROTHY COURTNEY is g WI Daughter of the Revolution.

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 In the same sense she Is a daughter of all the wars of English speaking peoples since the crusades. Her an cestors spent so much time fighting that one naturally wonders how they came to be ancestors at all
 A courage absolute is what Dorothy most admires, and until lately she has thought her cousin Harold Several times removed) possessed it.
 At present she doubts whether any man (except the few Courtneys who haven't been killed off) is really brave under all circumstances.
 Miss Dorothy and her aunt were at a summer resort when Harold showed the white feather and allowed her to be saved from a swarm of angry bees by stranger.
 Harold vanished, and the new young man, Mir. Kempton, was installed as hero. He was reserved young man, and did not find it necessary to inform her that there are some men whom bees will not sting.
 Now comes the sad tale of Mir. Kemp tons tumble from his pedestal. He followed Miss Dorothy and her aunt to Frankfort, and foolishly allowed him. self to go out in a catboat. He might have had telegram from home, or even a vulgar cramp in the stomach, but, misled by clear sky and an Ana nias of boatman, he went like lamb to the slaughter.
 A mile from shore wind struck them savagely. It slated the sail cuffed the poor little Siren, and jerked the sheet from Kempton's hand. The sail swung out over the bows. Kemp ton threw himself on the tiller; the lower fastening of the rudder broke and the boat was helpless. It swung side on to the waves and widowed. A larger wave struck it aSsidships and dumped half barrel of water into it.
 Kempton lost what nerve he had. "We shall be drowned! There is no hope!" he cried, white to the lips and threw himself into the bottom of the boat.
 Seasickness, combined with the fear of death, brought him to the lowest pitch.
 Miss Dorothy, sitting erect in the stern sheets, looked out over the toss ing waves somberly. Presently she saw far ahead most singular sight. A crazy little canoe was dancing to- ward her at a rapid rate. It seemed to be sliding sideways from the waves. It had less of stability than a thistle down, and it was empty. But beside it, apparently riding on air, was a man.
 As the Siren swung to the top of wave Dorothy could see palmer The man was balanced on a board far out to windward from the canoe He had furled mizzen sail and jib, but had not shortened his mainsail, and he was fairly flying toward the catboat. An instant later he was aboard and had made his painter fast.
 He caught the long oar from the bot tom of the boat, looped it to the firm portion of the rudder, and with two tremendous strokes swung the Sirens head up to the wind.
 He was a we'll tanned, busy young man who did not require instructions.
 "Is he dead?" he asked, nodding to- ward Kempton.
 Miss Dorothy smiled sadly, for an image was broken.
 NO" she answered; "he is-sea- sick"
 "Get up and take this oar," the stranger said. Keep its head up."
 Kempton did not move, but Dorothy came to the young man. q think I can," she said. Show me how" He looked at her with frank admir&-