The Press., 1917-08-09

There was only three feet of space
 between the boat and the boards over
 head. At the rate the tide was rising
 should have nearly an hour before thC climax could be reached. I tried tC
 console myself with the thought that
 was safe. The water would force ths boat up toward the roof, but by lying
 down in it we could wait for the turn of the tide. I took measurements and
 found that with six inches of space WIG could escape if we took care. not to
 rock the boat. . ~
 On the other hand, If the water crept
 up beyond that point the boat would
 be swamped, and I would have nc
 choice other than to sink like a log
 Jock might swim around and eventual ly escape, but for me there was nc { escape.
 The thought of such an end sent thc cold shivers down my spine. It was difficult to sit there and wait for the end lit my pipe and tried to smoke
 but my courage oozed out slowly, and twice the pipe went out. Then put it away and took another measurement.
 turned pale with apprehension. Thd tide had gained a foot and half. By aid of the dim light looked at my watch. The time for high tide was still half an hour off.
 I realized then that my fate was sealed. The water would reach to a level with the floor of the dock, and l would drown. I tried to picture the scene of the final struggle. In fancy l experienced all the sensations of death.
 Jock must have been thinking of the same thing, for he suddenly grew nerv- ous and excited. He whined and whim- pered and chased up and down the boat. I tried to grab him to stifie his cries, but he avoided me and finally leaped overheard.
 That splash in the water brought more alarm to me than anything else. Jock was deserting me, and, like a drowning man clinging to his support of straw, I grabbed for the dog to haul him back.
 I must have leaned heavily on the side of the boat, for 1t suddenly tipped and rolled straight over, turning turtle so quickly that was in the water be- fore I could think. Fortunately I had presence of mind enough to grasp the sides. 1 clung to this support and gasped for breath.
 I tried in vain to turn the boat over. It would have been a stupendous job in that narrow space for an expert swimmer; for me 1t was absolutely i'm possible.
 The top of the boat was within few inches of the dock overhead, and l could not climb upon it. 1 simply around and around the overturned craft, whining and begging me to leave it, but there was no alternative, and l chung desperately to the slippery bot tom.
 The water rose inch by inch. First the bottom of the boat bumped against the boards overhead; then it was held firmly in position, and the tide climbed higher, marking the rise on the sides.
 When there was only six inches of space in which to breathe began to lose all hope. At five inches the lap ping waves frequently slapped the briny water In my mouth. l W ned my head backward, forcing my mouth and nose as. near the boards of the roof as possible. Jock was by my side doing the same.
 But he took it less silently and calm ly. He spluttered and whined and made frantic efforts to bore his nose through the Obdurate boards. I was fast losing control of my muscles, for horrible fear was paralyZing my will. The frantic terror of the drowning man was taking possession of me.
 The water was now filling my mouth and nostrils with every gentle undula- tiOn of the surface. I spluttered and gasped and made more frantic strug- gleS than Jock.
 My senses were deserting me when Jock suddenly slipped from my side and disappeared. My first thought was that the poor dog had succumbed and was dead. Then I concluded that he had made a strike for life and lib erty at the final moment.
 This impression was apparently veri- fled a moment later. heard Jocks bark in the distance. The sound was far away and mufled, but it seemed to come from overhead. He had escaped
 Then the impossibility of it dawned upon my mind. There had been no time for him to dive under the dock and reach the top of it. But, if not, the dog had found a place of security. His natural instinct had led him tG some safe nook which I had over. looked.
 This thought possessed me and brought renewed hope to my failing spirit. l would follow Jocks lead and then yield to the inevitable without a murmur.
 But where was Jock? That puzzled me. I tried to locate his muffied cry, It sounded so near and yet so distant!
 Something impelled me to strike out under the boat with one arm, and my hand came in contact with something soft and furry. It was Jock, and had not heard his constant and persistent bark l should have concluded he was strangling to death under the boat.
 A mans wits act quickly in moments oL great danger, or at least they do sometimes. Mine worked with light. ning-like rapidity then. reasoned that could live where Jock could, and Il plunged my head under the boat and grasped upward for support.
 found myself moment later cling. ing to the seat of the overturned boat, with my head pumping against the bot tom buf with moro Snapo for. hToo fh. ing than I had enjoyed for some time. It was total darkness there, but the air was fresh and invigorating. Jock was fawning by my side and whimpering with delight.
 l reasoned out the explanation of it in flash. In turning over so suddenly the boat had imprisoned a lot of air, and the rising water had held it. The bottom and sides of the boat were both