one hand around a
handkerchief. 'My God!' she was sayin'--'My God. And me bhoy is on that
boat!' And I knew that it was throuble and that many people would have
their heads in their hands that night, with aches in their throats. I
got up--shoes in me hand. At sight of me bright unifor-rm ten men flung
themselves on me. 'You will help save them?' they cried at me.

"'I will so soon as I get me shoes on,' I remar-rked, pushing them off
me toes. I put on me boots and stood up. 'Now I'll save thim,' says I.
'Where are they?'

"'They're on the _Gladys_,' says three at once. 'Thirty of our
people--women and men and childher.'

"'Why wake me?' I demanded crosslike. 'Aren't the brave life-savers even
now sitting be the fire waitin' for people to come and be saved? I'm a
chief engineer in the lighthouse establishmint and we save no lives
excipt whin we can't help it. Get the life-saving crew.'

"And they explained to me bould Mickey that the crew was gone twenty
miles up the coast to rescue the men on a steam schooner that was
wrecked off the Siletz, word of it having come down but two hours
since. They looked at me unifor-rm and demanded their relatives at me
hands. I shoved them away and wint out to think. In the prociss it
occurred to me that the _Gladys_ might not be lost. I wint back and
asked thim how they knew it was time to mourn. 'If that launch is ashore
they are as close to the fire as they can get,' I tould thim. 'And if
she has gone down 'tis too late to dhry their stockings.'

"'She is lost in the fog,' I was infor-rmed. She shud have been back at
her wharf at four o'clock. 'Twas now turned six and the bar was rough
and blanketed in mist. The captain of the harbor tug had stated, with
wise shakes of the head, that the _Gladys_ cud do no more than lay
outside the night and wait for sunshine and a smooth crossing. I shoved
thim away from me again and wint out to think.

"It was a mur-rky fog, that sort that slathers over the watther like
thick oil. Beyond the hill I cud hear the surf pounding like a riveter
in a boiler. Overhead was a sheet of gray cloud, flying in curds before
the wind, and in me mouth was the taste of the deep sea, blown in upon
me with the scent of the storm.

"Two words with the skipper of the tug tould me the rest. 'It's coming
on to blow a little from the south-ard,' said me bould mariner. 'It's so
thick the _Gladys_ can't find her way back. Her passengers will be cold
and hungry whin