The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1929-02-08
CHAPTER VI-Continued
5


with you!" Parish cried. A wave
pushed the surf-boat back toward the
sand, the undertow dragged 1t lake
ward. Every man was aboard except
Norman and the captain. Parish
leaned close and beloved
Your turn last jump"
Norman bit his teeth together and
made ready to obey. With wet smart
ing eyes he saw the lean big-boned
officer swing aboard. He reached for
the gunwale. tOrrential wave
slapped against his face. He saw the
black shadow of the Iifeboat jerk
away.
Gomez" the captains voice snapped
back to him on the wind.
Norman leaped forward with all the
strength that was left in his legs. He
heard Ed Baker cry:
"Yaller-bellied pick'rel!"
The assistant keeper waded out saw
agely. while cold roller spattered
him with a power that chilled his
spine. Afraid? He afraid? He'd show
themI Show Bakerl Show old Gus
taf! Baker was wrong this time!
They were all wrong, always had been
wrong. He was goingl His breath
strangled In his throat.
Gomez" the men ere shouting
"COme!"
he ducked his head and scrambled
forward. The stern of the boat float
ed three arm-lengths off. Norman
sprawled after it.
Destiny interviewed. A roller, great.
er than all the others, heavier, angrier,
leaped out of the darkness. 1t fell
savagely on the man who was left,
flung him backward far up the beach.
trampled him into the gravel, and re-
treated satisfied.
The cries of the laboring crew
echoed hOarsely from the diStraught
lake. The lifebOat was making hard
progress against unwilling water. Nor.
man clawed upward to a shelf of sand.
MINDED. beaten, wet impOtent, he
glared at the bowling lake. Standing
numb but secure on the gusty beach,
fhe son OF Gustat Erickson watched
dangerous duty.
Back In the hot, steamy signal
house, Sue Stocking changed the coal
scoop against the boiler door, stuffed
the tirebOx with fuel, and slapped the
door shut vigorously. Squirting like
her father, she read the steam gauge.
"That'll do" she commented aloud.
81 can leave ii ten minutes |
can go look J"
AnxiOusly she splashed through the
wash toward Steve SuttOns fish dock.
She could see her fathers lantern
now on the sand two hundred yards
ahead; figures, bending and struggling,
light. She realized that they were
launching Steve's boat
She ran faster she might
get there in time to help push them
off. She was very angry, so angry
that the blowing spray did not cool
her face. She felt sure of Norman
Erickson now. He had come in terri.
fed, sObbing of dog. Her memory
worked savageIy. His own father, Ed
Baker. Sutton. Parish. every man she
knew except the keeper, had termed
him coward. She herself had called
him one the first night. Only once
since then had he shown himself at
all brave, two weeks ago that was.
when she upset the kerosene. But II
had been fire then, not storm. Where
was he now? Out with the coast
guard?
Going with Parish would redeem
him little, but not entirely. He had
bawled at dog.
She saw the skiff put off. She was
too late. Turning, she hurried back
toward the boilers. There lay the dog
in the sand. Yes. a dead dog. Al.
ready half buried.
She painted on quickly. Where was
that Norman? Her father yanked an
oar out there in the blackness, in
skiff full of water. Well, If ii did ND
set, it would float, and they could hang
TO the Sides Captain Samuel Stock
ing could still swim very well, In
spite of his rheumatics.
Meanwhile Stocking and Steve SUIT
ton rowed doggedly. The wreck was
rolling very little anG lying on her
port side A small vessel. A yscht.
power yacht.
The keeper bobbed forward and
gripped her rail. He beloved abruptly,