hat some American vessel might
come to their rescue. But now that the wind had died away there was no
chance of that for the present.

"A midsummer calm. May be stuck here for twenty-four hours," Anne heard
a grumbling voice declare.

The long summer day dragged by. Anne opened the lunch basket, but had
little appetite. At sunset there was a ripple of wind and the two boats,
side by side, moved a short distance.

Anne, shut up in the tiny cabin, had come to a great resolve. "Father
told me to stay here, but if I could creep aboard the schooner and untie
the cords, then father and Captain Starkweather could get free," she
thought. And the more she thought of it, the more sure she was that she
could do it.

The twilight deepened, and now Anne ventured to push open the cabin door
a little way. The sailors were in the forecastle, but Anne could see a
dark figure in the stern of the schooner. She ventured out and softly
closed the cabin door. Now, on her hands and knees, the little girl
crept across the little space toward the side of the schooner. It looked
like a black wall, but not very high above her, and there were ropes;
and Anne was used to boats. Grasping a rope she drew herself up, hand
over hand, until she could reach the deck-rail. Now she gave a swift
glance toward the dark figure at the stern. "I do believe he's asleep,"
she thought, and Anne now pulled herself to the top of the rail and
dropped noiselessly to the deck of the schooner. For a few moments she
cowered in the shadow, and then looked anxiously about. Near the cabin
she could see two black shadows, and knew that they were her father and
Captain Starkweather.

Keeping close in the shadow Anne crept along the deck. But, noiseless as
her progress had been, Anne had been seen the moment her little figure
reached the top of the deck rail. John Nelson's keen eyes, staring into
the summer night, had recognized his little daughter, and instantly
realized that Anne meant to help them. He held his breath for fear that
some sharp ear had caught a sound, and then whispered to his companion,
"Don't move, or call out, captain; Anne is on deck and will help us."

The little girl was now close beside her father. "Feet first, Anne," he
whispered, and Anne's eager fingers pulled and worked at the tough knots
so securely tied until they loosened, and John Nelson could move his
feet. Her father did not dare even whisper again. He longed to tell her
to hurry, but d