FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163  
164   165   166   167   168   169   170   >>  
hundred and twenty seconds they would be upon it--or past it. There was no time for Kent to explain. He sprang to his pack, whipped a knife from his pocket, and cut the stout babiche rope that reenforced its straps. In another instant he was back at Marette's side, fastening the babiche about her waist. The other end he gave to her, and she tied it about his wrist. She smiled as she finished the knot. It was a strange, tense little smile, but it told him that she was not afraid, that she had great faith in him, and knew what the babiche meant. "I can swim, Jeems," she cried. "If we strike the rock." She did not finish because of the sudden cry that came to his lips. He had almost forgotten the most vital of all things. There was not time to unlace his boots. With his knife he cut the laces in a single downward thrust. Swiftly he freed his own feet, and Marette's. Even in this hour of their peril it thrilled him to see how quickly Marette responded to the thoughts that moved him. She tore at her outer garments and slipped them off as he wriggled out of his heavy shirt. A slim, white-underskirted little thing, her glorious hair flying in the wind that came through the Chute, her throat and arms bare, her eyes shining at Kent, she came again close within his arms, and her lips framed softly his name. And a moment later she turned her face up, and cried quickly, "Kiss me, Jeems--kiss me--" Her warm lips clung to his, and her bare arms encircled his neck with the choking grip of a child's. He looked ahead and braced himself on his feet, and after that he buried one of his hands in the soft mass of her hair and pressed her face against his naked breast. Ten seconds later the crash came. Squarely amidships the scow struck the Dragon's Tooth. Kent was prepared for the shock, but his attempt to hold his feet, with Marette in his arms, was futile. The bulwark saved them from crashing against the slippery face of the rock itself. Amid the roar of water that filled his ears he was conscious of the rending of timbers. The scow bulged up with the mighty force beneath, and for a second or two it seemed as though that force was going to overturn and submerge it. Then slowly it began to slip off the nose of the rock. Holding to the rail with one hand and clinging to Marette with his other arm, Kent was gripped in the horror of what was happening. The scow was slipping INTO THE RIGHT HAND CHANNEL! In that channel there was n
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163  
164   165   166   167   168   169   170   >>  



Top keywords:
Marette
 

babiche

 

quickly

 
seconds
 

buried

 

breast

 

Squarely

 

amidships

 

pressed

 

moment


turned

 
softly
 

framed

 
looked
 
braced
 

struck

 

encircled

 

choking

 

filled

 

Holding


clinging

 

overturn

 

submerge

 

slowly

 

gripped

 
CHANNEL
 

channel

 

horror

 

happening

 

slipping


bulwark

 

crashing

 
slippery
 

futile

 

prepared

 

attempt

 

mighty

 

bulged

 

beneath

 

timbers


rending
 
shining
 

conscious

 

Dragon

 

thoughts

 
strange
 

finished

 
smiled
 
afraid
 

strike