fter that. The writin' stops there."

"Say," said the dog-fancier, disgusted, "that's no place to have the
story stop. Get a fellow all strung up and then dump him off that way
without knowin' how it ended."

The man with the hose began to bind up a leak with a bit of tarpaulin.
"I ain't made it up outa my head," he said. "I'm just tellin' you what
happened. An' it seems to me the story did have an end, all right,
'cause there they were all lyin' stretched out cold the way the hunter
found 'em."

The listener shivered. "Say, can't you tell us a more cheerful yarn?"

The story-teller shook his head. "Mos' Newfoundland an' Labrador
stories is like that, Bill," he said. "Grey, like the fog an' the
face o' the sea.--Guess I'll go an' put on some more clothes. This
wind sure does bite clear into the middle o' your bones."

"Yes," said the other, "an' the sea's gettin' colder every minute.
Say, Jim, I hope the watch'll keep his eyes peeled to-night. I'd sure
hate to run into any o' those there bergs. Don't like the looks o'
that one we seen just now. One o' those'd be enough to send us all to
Davy Jones's locker in a jiffy."

For five days more they ran on, all the time through dense fog.
Then--the grey mist lifted, and the lovely green of the land appeared.
At least, it looked beautiful after so many days at sea.

But what was that? Over the evergreens a tall plume of black smoke
rose.

"The place is burnin' up!" said Bill to Jim.

"I counted thirteen places where she's on fire. What is that anyway?"

"That's St. John's," answered Bill, a little proud of his knowledge.
"Capital o' Newfoundland."

"Where're we gonna land, with this fire goin' on this way?"

"Dunno," said Bill. "We'll run in farther, 'n' then we can see."

Grenfell was at the prow, looking at the burning city. Some of the
ships had burned down to the water, right at the wharves. Chimneys
were standing up out of the ruins like broken, blackened fingers
pointing at the sky.

People came running down through the smoke and the flames.

"Got anything to eat?" they cried.

"Not much!" shouted back Grenfell. "But what we've got you're welcome
to!"

"Is there a doctor on board?" was the next hail.

"I'm a doctor," called Grenfell.

"Glory be!" came the answer. "There'll be plenty for you to do ashore,
Doctor!"

So instead of rest and comfort after the long sea-voyage Grenfell and
those with him had to peel off their coats and plunge right in