Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-04-28

On for q moment, hreathless, blind sick,
o grim and furious anger growing inside
him. He did not see the harsh mare
lights In the distant boats. nor the white
blurs beneath them that were the faces
Of 1000 passengers and crew numbly
watching the doomed liner. He was lift
ing and falling In o great, wet, dark
void, across which visions came and
went and through which pain wracked
him, and there persisted shrill. in
ststent voice, maddentng. More rockets
He CROPPED and then the tin box fell
from under his numb arm. One rocket
leftl He gripped II tightly, as II afraid
it would jump from his grasp. He
fumhled for the tin socket. thrust the
rocket-stick inside It and then leaned
against the cold iron of the davit for
what seemed ages. his legs trembling
and his breath coming m hard. short
gasps. He was unaware that he had
long ago lost his cap. He was unaware
his uniform was torn and citngtng wetly
to him, that his face was all blood
from q cut IN his forehead, that all
one side Of him was black bruises
and raw flesh He was very weak and
1t was hard to keep q footing on the
siantine wet deck, what with the wind
and the spray and the furching. The
seas we're running clear across the
promenade beneath the boat-deck now
and II was q matter of moments alone
before the next high coEber covered
all.
He reused himself and jerked clear
the sandpapered cap, sheltering the
igniting substance with his hands and
his body. He whispered inarticulate
things as he struck once. and twice.
and once again, before the dampened
stun would catch. So close he cupped
his hands to keep of the spray that
the sudden squirt of fire scorched both
his palms, though he did not feel It.
He was only aware that another stream
Of golden red flashed upward by his
face and then he sagged against the
davit and slid to the deck, as the wind
Was shut OF by q huge wall rising 70
wfndward The sea broke with the
roar.
Even then he did not completely lose
Consciousness. There was q furious
impotent feeling astir inside him as
he was carried irresistibly forward. The
last rocket. Some one must see 1t.
Those boats Of his. 1900 passengers
and crew. Women and ehidrenl He
had done his best. OF an the ships
he had known, the ships he had served,
the ships he had seen. was there not
boy out Of Stavanger. This was the
end Thirty thousand tons. tur-
bfne- driven. sent under as easy as an
Iceland schooner :. All, the good old
times. the good old times
The AMMAN Prince shook weakly
under the charge of the seas. 1t was
the rigor of death.
The good old days The good old
times 80.
TALK about luck said the mate
Of the AMMAN Prince. making his
report to the consul ut Lisbon some
| days later. 1T was that last rocket
| that did the trick. We'd likely have
been scattered and perhaps foundered
in the next days gale. If it hadn't
been for that. The skipper played in
luck, too We found him drifting
about half-crszy and hanging to one
| Of the empty life-beit boxes that must
have broken clear from the Iboat-deck.
He'll be all right, after a week or SO
IN the hospital. You can't xiii those
squareheads! A little old tramp packet
picked Us up. Dirty. filed with cock
reaches and rats and rolled like hog.
Name Of wilhelmina. though. I under
stand, she used to be called the Cara
! doc. In the eastern trade, guess.
fCopyrigi1t, 1927