embered that they were going home on the next day. Within
a fortnight he would be in San Francisco again--a taxpayer, a
police-protected citizen once more. It had been good fun, after all,
this three weeks' life on the "Bertha Millner," a strange episode cut
out from the normal circle of his conventional life. He ran over the
incidents of the cruise--Kitchell, the turtle hunt, the finding of
the derelict, the dead captain, the squall, and the awful sight of
the sinking bark, Moran at the wheel, the grewsome business of the
shark-fishing, and last of all that inexplicable lifting and quivering
of the schooner. He told himself that now he would probably never know
the explanation of that mystery.

The day passed in preparations to put to sea again. The deck-tubs and
hogsheads were stowed below and the tackle cleared away. By evening all
was ready; they would be under way by daybreak the next morning. There
was a possibility of their being forced to tow the schooner out by
means of the dory, so light were the airs inside. Once beyond the heads,
however, they were sure of a breeze.

About ten o'clock that night, the same uncanny trembling ran through the
schooner again, and about half an hour later she lifted gently once or
twice. But after that she was undisturbed.

Later on in the night--or rather early in the morning--Wilbur woke
suddenly in his hammock without knowing why, and got up and stood
listening. The "Bertha Millner" was absolutely quiet. The night was hot
and still; the new moon, canted over like a sinking galleon, was low
over the horizon. Wilbur listened intently, for now at last he heard
something.

Between the schooner and the shore a gentle sound of splashing came
to his ears, and an occasional crack as of oars in their locks. Was it
possible that a boat was there between the schooner and the land? What
boat, and manned by whom?

The creaking of oarlocks and the dip of paddles was unmistakable.

Suddenly Wilbur raised his voice in a great shout:

"Boat ahoy!"

There was no answer; the noise of oars grew fainter. Moran came running
out of her cabin, swinging into her coat as she ran.

"What is it--what is it?"

"A boat, I think, right off the schooner here. Hark--there--did you hear
the oars?"

"You're right; call the hands, get the dory over, we'll follow that boat
right up. Hello, forward there, Charlie, all hands, tumble out!"

Then Wilbur and Moran caught themselves looking into each othe