face was flushed and his voice was hoarse, but he
would pull himself together after he got to sea. Cartwright knew Brown's
habits when he gave him the job, although, in an important sense, the
job was Lister's. To trust the young fellow was a bold experiment, but
Cartwright did so. If Lister were not the man he thought, Cartwright
imagined his control of the line would presently come to an inglorious
end. To some extent this accounted for his bringing Barbara to see the
salvage expedition start. He knew the power of love.

Barbara had not gone up the greasy ladder to the bridge and waited on
deck. She had left home without much breakfast, in the dark, and was
cold and rather depressed. All was gloomy and strangely flat. The tug
looked small and was horribly dirty. Coal-dust covered rails and ropes;
grimy drops from the rigging splashed on the trampled black mud on deck.
The crew were not sober and their faces were black. Two or three
draggled women called to them from the pierhead, their voices sounding
melancholy and harsh.

Barbara had not seen Lister and wondered where he was, until a man
plunged out from the neighboring door of the engine-room. The abruptness
of his exit indicated that he had been rudely propelled by somebody
behind, and as he lurched across the deck, Lister appeared at the door.
His cap was dark with grease, his overalls were stained, and a black
smear ran from his eye to chin.

"Hustle and get that oil drum on the wharf, you drunken hog!" he
shouted. "If I hadn't watched out you'd have left half the truck."

He stopped when he saw Barbara. "This is very kind," he said to her. "I
knew Cartwright was on board, but hadn't hoped you would come to give us
a good send-off."

Barbara noted his satisfaction and was moved by something in his voice.
He looked thin and fine-drawn in his stained engineer's clothes, and his
hands were greasy. The surroundings were not romantic, but somehow they
got brighter and her gloom vanished. Lister's eyes sparkled; he wore the
stamp of strength and confidence.

"I doubted if my step-father would bring me, but I really meant to
come," she said. "For one thing, I wanted to ask you--"

She hesitated, for it was hard to strike the right note. She had begun
to see there was something exciting and perhaps heroic about the
adventure. The handful of men had undertaken a big thing; there was much
against them, and daunting risks must be run. Moreover, she had studied
Car