Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1919-07-06

y v the corner finally. The full
wind caught him and slam
med him violently against the deck
house. His solid meat and bone were
like so much straw. The impact
knocked the breath out Of him, and
he chung to the handrail. gasping. He
battled in vain to turn his face to
windward; each attempt left him
blind and breathless. His strength
was on paper. The swoop of the
wind sucked the air out of his lungs
xip.-like that: and he had to bury
his face in the crook of his arm to
get anything like full breath He
was beaten, beaten at the start, and
he knew it. And yet he laughed. His
body was weak. yes, but God Him
self had not loosed the wind that
could put fear into the heart of Will
liam Grogan.
He slipped around again to leeward,
where he took in deep, sobbing
breaths. His lungs stung as in zero
weather after hard run for a street
car. He was drenched, too. Forward
there was a ceaseless volleying of
deluges, and when they struck they
hurt.
you win" he cried. strangling and
laughing. Il can lick my weight in
wildcats and near-champions but l
know the real article when ] see it.
Zowie!"
But he had felt the tempest in the
roots of his hair, and that was what
he had come out for. He was never
going to be bothered with headaches
;gain. If he could get to the rear
,f the smoke room there might be a
chance to see what was going on
ithout risking his Me. He made
tle distance without mishap. Mid
way 0St the lighthouses there was
but little wind. He shook himself
and wiped the water out of his eyes.
once more he laughed. Only an hour
o. so back there had not been rip
pie on the oily swells, and now all
Nell seemed broken loose.
\fter a short rest he Unanswered
around the starboard end, into the
teeth Of the storm again and
paused, doubling his eyes.
y dozen feet away was a woman in
white. She lay against the deck
house, winddriven, her arms wound
around the handrail. Her tawny
hair was blowing straight out behind
her. though many strands of it SEEM
ed glued to the white panels. She
had the appearance Of one of those
Italian bas-reliefs, for every line of
her body was drawn clearly under
the soaking, clinging linen. A witch,
a mermaid, or a good old Irish BAN
slice! Evidently she dared not let go.
Sea after sea broke forward. The
Internal mingling Of titanic noises
the swapping of canvas. the roaring
Ventilators, the doors forward and
aft banging monotonously, the rum
bling of the steam, the convulsive
creaking shudder of the ship as the
screws nung themselves free of the
water. and the immensely of that
great. humming mt was
hell without birthstone.
The only thing that saved the girl
from suffocation was the projection
OF the middle saloon. This broke
the density and volume of the waves
Nevertheless, sheet after sheet slap
ped against her body resoundingly.
She had probably come out for a for
gotten book or rug, he thought The
little fool!
Creep back, and don't let go that
hand-rail! Do just as l tell you!" he
yelled; but the gale drove the words
back into his fthroat The below Of a
Cyclops would not have reached the
girls ears Understandings. There
was nothing for 1t but to go after her.
He put his free arm around her. Then
she turned. 1t was Ruth. and she
was laughing! Good Cod"
The fear for her safety turned him
into something of u brute. That she
should dare risk her life like this in
play! A strong man had some chance,
but a woman none. The rescue-for
no doubt it was a rescue-had none
OF those niceties which made certain
mid. Victorian chapters memorable.
William was simply the caveman, and
Ruth was his woman. and the deluge
was reaching out for her. That he
did not take her by the hair was be-
cause his grip on her body was suf-
ncient. He knew that his strength,
multiplied many times by terror and
rage. was equal to any typhoon that
ever came out OF the China sea.
The wind. as il realizing that both
were abou to escape. redoubled its