in.

"Quit that!" he muttered hoarsely. "Can't you let a fellow alone."

Arrived at last on the other side, he rose to his knees and tried to
peer above him to the place where the second lifeboat should be
swinging. A flash of lightning aided his vision. A groan escaped his
lips.

"Gone!" he muttered. "Should have thought of that! But," he told
himself, "there's still the raft!"

The raft, built of boards and gas-filled tubes, was lashed to the deck
forward. Thither he made his difficult way.

To his great relief, he found the raft still safe. Since it was
thrashing about, he uncoiled a rope closely lashed to the side of a
cabin and with tremendous effort succeeded in making the raft snug.

"There, now, you'll remain with us for a spell," he muttered.

Clinging there for a moment, he appeared to debate some important
question.

"Guess I ought to do it," he told himself at last. "And I'd better do
it now. You never can tell what will happen next and if worst comes to
worst it's our only chance."

Fighting his way back to his cabin, he returned presently with the
post-shaped affair which he had lashed to the springs of his berth.

This he now lashed to the stout slats of wood and crossbars of metal on
the raft. When he had finished it appeared to be part of the raft.

"There, my sweet baby," he murmured, "sleep here, rocked on the cradle
of the deep, until your papa wants you. You're a beautiful and wonderful
child!"

Then, weary, water-soaked, chilled to the bone, stupefied by the wild
beat of the storm, aching in every muscle but not downhearted, he fought
his way back to the radio cabin.

* * * * *

Nature has been kind to man. She has so made him that he is incapable of
feeling all the tragedy and sorrow of a terrible situation at the time
when it bursts upon him. Vincent Ardmore, as he clung to the wrecked
plane, with his companion gone from him forever, did not sense the full
horror of his position. He realized little more than the fact that he
was chilled to the bone, and that the wind and waves were beating upon
him unmercifully.

Then, gradually there stole into his benumbed mind the thought that he
might improve his position. The platform above him still stood clear of
the waves. Could he but loosen the straps which bound him to the
fuselage, could he but climb to that platform, he would at least be free
for a time from the rude beating of the black waters which