That was it. There were lives to save over there. Duty
called--a stern, clear call; at least, Dan so heard it, and he was
willing to answer it with his life, if necessary. But he did not think
of that part of it. It was the lives of those imperilled persons that
concerned him. He and his tug were there that they might live. There
were women aboard; he had seen their white faces gazing imploringly at
him through the cabin portholes--bright, beautiful lives--and men in
the glorious prime of their youth. His heart went out to them, and as
Mr. Howland laid aside his megaphone the problem was clear. He waved
his megaphone in assent and then, levelling it at the yacht, he cried:

"All right. Float a hawser down to us; you are pitching too wild-eyed
to come within heaving-line distance." Passing the pilot-house on his
way below, he nodded and smiled at the men inside. There had been no
need to question them. They had been too long with Dan, and too
faithful, not to catch his drift of mind in all emergencies long before
he expressed it in words; too brave and hardened to danger, in fact, to
care what Dan wanted, just so that he was willing to lead them--to
share with them the work to be done.

In the course of a few minutes a small raft, bearing a heaving-line
which the yachtsmen had streamed, drifted down upon the tug, clearing
the bow by a few feet. Dan leaned out and caught it with his
boat-hook, bringing the line aboard. Then he and his fireman tailed on
to the end of it, bringing in the attached hawser hand over hand. This
they hurried to the stern bitts, taking a pass also around the steam
winch. Leaving the fireman to watch it, Dan dashed into the
pilot-house and sounded the jingle-bell in the engine-room.

For a few minutes the churnings of the screw were discounted by the
bulk of the yacht plus the elemental forces which sought to keep her
head just where it was--in the trough of the sea. The tow-line
vibrated itself into a blur, the tug strained and quivered and groaned.

"Why don't you help us in some way, you fools!" roared Dan, struggling
at the wheel. "You can at least steer, or--"

Before he could proceed there was a report like the bark of a cannon
and a torn and shredded end of hawser came writhing and twisting up out
of the sea, sluing across the face of the pilot-house as though
possessed of all the venom of the living thing it resembled--a python.

There was silence on both the tug an