Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1918-04-11
CHAPTER XXI.
A Death Ship.

1t was Gods miracle that we lived
and kept afioat; that we We're not
sucked under. or crushed into drift
wood. To this day I know not what
occurred, or how we held upright.
There was a crash, a c%runching sound,
a mad plunging Of the tortured boat
under us. My hands gripped vainly at
the steel sides slipping past-then sud-
denly the wild race ended with q jerk,
with a leap of the boat through a surge
Of water drenching us to the skin, and
we struck the schooner's side a blow
which, 1t seemed to mi must crush
every plank into atoms. I held Vera
to me ready for the end, but Leayord
yelled wildly:
"That's 1t Red! make fast there
make fast! Lively now, before we go
down. The mizzen chains, Olson! Up
you go, my lad-by heaven! he made
It'll"
I was on my feet now, understand
ing 1t all, realizing the value Of each
second. knowing hat the shattered
boat must be sinking under US. I also
got grip on the chains. and the three
Of lis held on desperately, Red hauling
the single rope end taut, and looping 1t
about the thwart.
"IIere, Olson; reach your arms
20 time to wait for help. Now, Vera
quick, girl; the boat Is sinking under
u.s."
She stepped onto my shoulders,
grasped the chains to steady herself
then gripped Olson's hand, sprang up
ward, and was drawn safely in. ]
turned to the others.
make fast, Red. There is nothing
more to be done but get out. One at
a time now; here, White, you're Grip
pied, go first-hoist him up, Masters F;
aow ease in there, Olson-good enough.
You're next, Masters"
Leayord and I were the last, and we
left the dinghy swamped behind us,
dangling and crushed against the steel
side of the schooner, upheld only by
the strength of the rope. 1t was all
the work of q feverish minute, in
which thought was impossible because
IF the stress Of action. But now, as I
clung breathlcss to those lower mizZcn
ratlincs. the seven of us damned upon
, The little platform, the green surge Of
water below slushing against the
wreck we had just left, the strange ST.
Ience Of this vessel which we had
boarded struck me with full force. In
heavens name. what could it mean?
1t was broad daylight; If there was a
man alive aboard, he could never have
failed to see or hear us in this fierce
struggle for life. Yet no one was Wis
ible; no sound of voice was heard; no
face pecrcd over at us above the rail.
1t was like q ghost schooner, and I felt
the very heart of me chill as I stared
into the blank faces of my huddled
companions, and along the shiny sides,
and the deserted rail.
"This is a rum go, SIR" ventured
Leayord soberly. Saint she got no
crew."
II don't know what to make Of it,"
I confessed, "but Well soon find out.
AASip liz AouS, ACdSOlu. OlSOu, SUIlc
with me-"
We footed the ropes, and swung up
to the rail, clinging there long enough
to gain swift view Of the deck beyond.
1t was as clean as a ~millionaire's
yacht, and had the appearance of one,
with brasswork glistening, and paint
fresh and bright. Every rope seemed
coiled Ia place, the sail gaskets firmly
tied, the planks spotless, the canvas as
white as though just out Of the SAIL
loft. My eyes surveyed the whole fore
and aft-the low %forecastle, the cooks
galley, with door standing wide open,
revealing a ireless stove, the boats in
chocks. not n missing, the after
cabin on the deck level, It's companion
door ajar, the wheel astern, outlined
against the sky, swinging slightly to a