, except the lifeboat there. We lost the others
in the storm. But it was little use my thinking of launching a
heavy lifeboat when you were afloat there at hand."

"Well, well, it couldn't be helped," said Kinlay. "It was their own
fault they were capsized, and there's no use talking. Put your helm
to starboard, skipper, and let's get you into port."

"Is this man a pilot, Ericson?" asked Captain Gordon, turning to
me.

"No," I said; "I believe he has not yet taken out his license. He
started piloting two days since in opposition to my father."

Kinlay scowled almost savagely at me for saying this. But I knew
very well that he was not a fully qualified pilot, whatever he
might become, now that my father was drowned. He lost much of his
swaggering manner, however, and was very quiet when Captain Gordon
ordered him off the ship.

"Since that is so, then," said the captain, "you may leave this
ship, and young Ericson will take us into the harbour. The lad may
have no more claim to pilot us than yourself, but I doubt not he is
quite as capable."

Kinlay walked across the quarterdeck at this dismissal, but as he
put one leg over the gangway to get down to his boat, he said in a
hoarse voice, and with a sly leer in his dark eye:

"I say, skipper, if ye're examined by the authorities, just say you
gave every assistance--that ye hove ropes over--d'ye see? It's a
very lamentable thing. But it was their own faults, their own
faults."

"What d'ye mean?" said the captain. "I did heave ropes over, and I
need tell no lies about it. I gave more assistance than you did, ye
blackguard."

"Oh, very well, very well! I thought I'd just put you on your
guard, d'ye see, in case you're examined."

And so saying, Kinlay disappeared over the rail, and was soon
sailing away, taking Thora with him.

My sister Jessie had come aboard while Carver and the captain were
altercating. She came up to the captain and in great distress asked
him if he was sure no more could be done to find our father and the
other men; at which he expressed his belief that it was impossible
to do anything further. I must add that this was also my own
impression, for I well knew that as the poor fellows had been
unable to keep afloat until Kinlay came up to them, nothing could
now save them from that terrible current.

But already we could see that there were several boats out looking
for the men. They could do more than we, for in the meantime the
Lydia w