abbling masts, they waited to launch no boat.
With few words but much action, they went over her side, one after the
other, and began to claw out for the _Sirius_, on which--she was sinking
too--our crew had a big quarter-boat ready to launch.

While the two vessels were still locked in collision I had seen Drislane
come running from aft and leap into the _Orion_. I lost sight of him
then, because with our captain I had jumped below into our cabin, he to
save his ship's papers and I to save my firm's. We were on deck in time
to get into our boat, and help pick up the crew of the _Orion_ in the
water.

Looking for Drislane then, I saw him and Captain Oliver Sickles at each
other's throats in the stern of the _Orion_. There wasn't much left of
her above water then. And on her deck it was a mess of fallen spars,
with her foremast the only stick left, and that--unsupported by
backstays and the wind still pressing against the big sail--that was
wabbling. Even as we looked it came down--lower and top parts--with a
smash which snapped the topmast off and sent it twisting and gyrating to
where, after a bound or two, it rolled down and pinned to the deck the
two battling men in the stern. With it came a tangled mess of halyards
and stays.

We had picked up all of the _Orion's_ crew from the water and were now
hurrying to get to the two men on the _Orion_, which was fast settling,
when a red-haired girl came running from the cabin companionway. Almost
as if she had been waiting in ambush, she rushed over to the fallen
spar, untangled the halyards from the legs of one of the furthest men,
and after an effort lifted the end of the spar so that he could scramble
free. She needed to be strong to do that; but she was strong. If she had
held the spar up only an instant longer, the other man might have
wiggled free too. But she let it drop back. The man she had freed she
picked up and carried to the quarter-rail, where she waited for us in
the boat. He made an effort as if to get back to the man left under the
spar, but she would not let him. "Tain't no crime, Honey," I heard her
say as we got to them. She went overboard as she said it, and we had to
hurry to get her. "I know him a heap better than you-all, Honey--let him
rest where he done fall to."

She couldn't swim, but we got them in time. She didn't mind us in the
least. "He done tol' me, Honey, you was dyin' abo'd yo' ship 'n' o'
coase I goes on down to see. It sure did look