e rail, reached it, and leaped far
out into the seething waters.

* * * * *

CHAPTER III

AN UNAPPRECIATED BOUNTY

In the prime of his belligerent career the Pet of 'Frisco had undergone
many fierce contests and withstood some terrible punishments, but never
had he undertaken a task calling for greater courage and power of
endurance than the one he had this night voluntarily assumed. Dashed
about by the seas, he yet managed to keep to the surface; minutes seemed
to lengthen into eternity; many times he called out loudly. The arms
about his neck relaxed, but he held the child to him. Not for an instant
did the temptation come to him to release her that he might the more
surely save himself. Overwhelmed again and again by the waves, each time
he emerged with her tight against his breast; half-strangled, he
continued to fight on. But at length even his dogged obstinacy and
determination began to flag; he felt his strength going, when raising
his eyes he saw one of the small craft from the lost vessel bearing
directly down upon him.

The sight inspired new energy and effort; nearer, nearer, she drew; now
she was but a few yards away. Then suddenly the sheet of the life-boat
went out and the little sail fluttered like a mad thing, while the men
bent with might and main over their ash handles in the endeavor to obey
the commands of the chief mate in the stern. But despite skill and
strength she was not easy to steer; once she nearly capsized; then eager
hands reached over the side. The convict held up the child; a voice--the
police agent's--called out that they "had her"; and then the mate broke
in with harsh, warning yells.

"Pull port!--quick!--or we're over!" And at once the outreaching arms
returned quickly to their task; as the child was drawn in, oars dragged
and tugged; the life-boat came slowly about, shipping several barrels of
water. At the same time some one made the loosened sheet taut, the
canvas caught the gust and the craft gained sufficient headway to enable
her to run over, and not be run down by the seas. As she careened and
plunged, racing down a frothing dark billow, the convict, relieved of
his burden, clung to the lower gunwale. By a desperate effort he drew
himself up, when a face vaguely remembered--as part of a bad
dream--looked into his, with a dash of surprise.

"Eh?--Gimme a hand--"

The asked-for hand swept suddenly under the one grasping the side o