ht.

There are three or four booming sounds. Corkey is startled. They are
repeated.

It is the yawl making its hollow sound.

But there are no noises of human beings. "Oddest thing I ever see!"
says Corkey. "I didn't know a shipwreck was like this. Everything is
different from what is printed--Lord save me!"

The Africa is rolling.

"Here goes!" It is now or never.

Corkey has short, tough fingers. He grasps that rope like a vise. He
wraps his left leg well in the coils. He kicks the steamer with his
right. The small boat does not touch the water when the steamer is
sitting straight in the sea.

It is a horrible turmoil in which to enter. Perhaps he came down too
soon!

"I wish I had some one with me now. Mebbe the two of us would get an
advantage."

The second mate looks over the gunwale from the prow of the steamer.
He knows a land-lubber is handling a yawl.

"D---- fool!" he mutters.

In the Georgian Bay, if the ship go down, all hands are to drown. Only
sham sailors like Corkey are to make any effort, beyond fastening
pieces of wood about their waists.

"I wonder if I'd come out here for this if I'd got onto it?" Then the
grim features relax. "I wonder if his nobs would?"

Corkey's feet rest on the prow of the small boat. He asks if he
fastened that rope securely at the cleat. He has asked that all the
way down. Perhaps the steamer is not going to sink.

"Whoopy!"

Corkey is under the steamer's side, deep in the waves. He goes down
suddenly, cold, frightened, benumbed. He feels that some one is trying
to pull the rope out of his hands. It must be Lockwin. The drowning
man clutches with a hundred forces. The tug increases. The struggling
man will lose the rope. Lockwin is striking Corkey with a bludgeon.
That is unfair! There is a last pull, and Corkey comes up out of the
waves.

What has happened? The Africa has rolled nearly over, but is righting.

Corkey's wits return. "I've lost my knife!" he cries, in bitter
disappointment. But, lo! his knife is in his hands. He can with
difficulty unloose his fingers from the rope.

The Africa is listing upon him again. He dreads that abyss of waters.
He cuts the rope far above him and he falls in the sea, the entire
scope of his life passing in a red fire before his eyes.

Beside, there is a drowning thought that he has gone out to die before
the rest. At the last, when he swung out as the Africa rolled toward
him he w