The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1907-08-30

maLcnoS, DuC without SlODe MS IAN
| tern was useless.
! As he passed out from the shelter
! of the stern he looked to leeward for
| the light of the schooner, which he
| knew had run down in that direction
, after dropping the dory. But shrek
ing blast, thick with snow, blinded
him; he could not see ten feet. AL
ready the steamer had disappeared;
| he was alone on the stormy midnight
sea.
/ It was no time for aimless drifting.
Eames pulled sturdily to leeward, hop,
ing that the squall would soon be over
and that then he would find himself
/ close to the pilot-boat.
| Gradually the squat went by. AS
| the flakes thinned; the oarsman, who
was facing seward on his thwart,
looked from right to left for the cheer
| ing light. 1t was nowhere visible. He
| glanced over his shoulder. Fully two
hundred yards straight behind him
faint greenish blur was travelling
rapidly across the face of the wind. 1t
was the port lantern of the schooner.
| With all his strength the boat-keeD-
err bent to the oars. But his efforts
were futile. Wind, waves and tide,
his former allies, were now united in
| hostile coalition that he could not
overcome. He fought gamely, al
| though all the while conscious that
he was losing ground. He knew that
Zenas Horne was anxiously striving
to pick up his lantern glimmer; but
| there was absolutely nothing the dory-
man could do to make his position
known. He might split his throat
with shouting, but against the gale
his voice would not carry a hundred
| yards.
The flakes ceased, and the light
| from the schooner frightened. She
was now some distance to the north
west. The green CLINT disappeared for
| a moment, and was then replaced by
red; she was returning on the other
tack. Swiftly the single eye shot
across the wind.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Family a
mile to leeward changed the bell on
| Grindstone Ledge. The melancholy
notes gave Eames an unpleasant
thrill, for they told how rapidly he
was drifting out into the Atlantic.
Hitherto he had felt no real doubt
about getting safe aboard at last.
! Now, as he saw how far to windward
| the pilot-boat persisted in searching,
chill not wholly from the January
| night stole over him. What if Horne,
after vainly cruising back and forth,
should abandon his quest!
| Ding-dong! Ding dong! A little
nearer and louder. How fast he was
drifting! Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Ever
| louder, ever nearer, pealed the melan-
| choly bell Horne had not given him
up yet Far in. the northeast the pilot
boat had tackled again, and the green
light still to windward!
Longingly following her course,
Eames spied, almost due east, three
glimmering points, like stars hung on
| the corners of an isosceles triangle,
| yellow above, red and green below.
Familiar with the movements of coast
craft, the doryman felt sure that this
was the government buoy-tender, Pet
rel, returning to port from one of her
| trips of inspection. AS nearly as he
| could Judge, she was about three miles
off; it would be twelve or thirteen
minutes before she passed. There was
not one chance in twenty that she
would come near enough for him to
hail her. How could he attract her
attention?
On Eames's reply to this question
his life probably hung. He reviewed
all his sea-lore, gathered from twenty
years of plotting, and hit upon a
single feasible expedient, bold, novel.
desperate.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong! The boat
keeper swung his dory straight toward
| Grindstone Ledge, a course exactly
opposite to that he had so painfully
! striyen to hold. Wind and tide re-
enforced his powerful strokes as he
drove down on the changing pell. Soon
the buoy appeared, rocking white with
ice-glaze. Beyond it the heavy surf
boiled over the black rocks.
Soon only ii few feet separated the
nose of the dory from the pitching
| cylinder. Eames, now alert in the
stern with his steering-oar, held her
course true. Just as it seemed as if
| the PROV were about to splinter on
the steel, splitting his craft from stern
to stern, ne gave a skilful twist. The
| boat shot by. At the same instant
he sprang forward, painter in hand;
and as the gunwale rubbed the icy
side, nc leaped for one of the bell sup
ports.
He caught it with one hand as the
. buoy rolled down. His fingers slip
ped Clutcning with his other hand,
he grasped the support. Just then
the derry painter twitched away, and
the boat was swept of into the gloom.
Eames cared little that the loss of
his craft fastened him on the rock
| ;,,u b,,o1y .fO,. haitian worca IF hiS