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

been q hard. wandering life. but he had
liked it. The little Caradoc had grown
to mean so much. He knew every rivet
of her, could interpret every creak and
movement. He had made money with
her. too, wages and percentage for
himself, a good profit for owners. The
line had gone into the passenger trade
then and had sold her. To Finland
company, he had heard, and they sold
her afterward to a Norwegian line.
He had hated to leave her. 1t was
like cutting of his right hand. But a
man would be a fool to throw his
career away, and then the line had
offered him the Paladin, and then the
Euripides Ten thousand tons and IL
knots this last. They had looked on
her as their crack in those days. until
they enlarged the line and began to
compete with the four-stackers on the
fast mail runs. And so eventually he
had come TO the AMMAN Prince.
All big ships. those he had COM
manded these last years. He had given
them his best, served them. even loved
them in a way. But most of his heart
was still with the Caradoc, with her
rats and cockroaches. her rust and her
wheeZy engine. her dozen Lascars for a
crew and her drunken mate-the little.
lazy Caradoc and the long, lazy days
on half known coasts and in strange
harbors. There had never been a thrill
like the one when he had first walked
up her gangplank and had later In his
cabin sewed the fourth gold band on
his cuff--a boy out of Stavanger. So
long ago-the good old times the good
old times Forty years at sea- and this
was the end.
THE rain drove down. The scud
l. raced across the sky. The wrecked
liner rolled YEARLY. The rockets famed
up. The boats tossed and moved in a
loose huddle under the blaze of the
s0archlight and the light from the
TERED decks. He gripped the teak rail
before him with hands that shook a
little. He could feel the sickening lurch
of the ship beneath him, and right
through his shoe soles came the vague
tremor that warned him the end vas
near. He heard the clock in the wheel
house below strike bells. Only ii 80!
At 1890 they had been steaming along
quite peacefully. rolling a little to the
high sea. but never dreaming Of disas-
ter Well, he had abandoned as soon
| as he knew there was no hope, and It
was a matter Of pride that not one of
the women or children had been in
iured or lost. Then men had kept cool.
Only the volunteers were left behind
to keep him company.
What was that? Lighting flares in
the boats, were they? CHASTITY the bril-
liant white lights were, and the blue
ones. Well. it was wise. The dynamos
would soon stop-the engine room must
be half full already-then the AMMAN
Prince would be plunged in darkness.
It was nothing short of a tragedy
that the sea during the storm the day
before had wrecked the wireless room
| He had never heard of anything like
that happening on any other ship.
though it was quite logical. A vessel
taking water, door opened at the
wrong time. an extra heavy roll, and
torrent tearing the instrument TO
pieces. 1t was Just after that had hap
pened that disaster would come
Almost as If one had been prepared
| for the other. Life was unreasonable
and very strange. But. il the wireless
| had been working, they would un-
| doubtedly have been able to get help
by this time. or at least had other
ships heading for them. Not that he
| particularly cared for himself. A mas
| ter had to see his ship through, or go
down with her, If need be. But those
| others, the volunteers. Many Of them
! were young had mothers, sisters, sweet