is mind when in the grip of the raging waters--then,
afterward, had regained his self-control, and with it a wholesome desire
to live.

Captain Ichabod managed to bring the skiff up under the lee of the
wreck. He threw a rope to the man, and bade him make it fast. The order
was obeyed. Ichabod then directed the yachtsman to collect his valuables
and come aboard the skiff. The castaway lost no time in obeying.
Presently, carrying a small black bag, he seated himself in the skiff,
and Ichabod turned the boat's nose toward the shore, and bent to the
oars, in haste to get back to his patient, and so to complete his list
of rescues for that eventful day.

During the short interval of time consumed in going from the wreck to
the Island, the stranger made anxious inquiries as to the fate of the
girl. He had thought that she was dead. When he heard from Captain
Ichabod that the girl still lived he was obviously startled and
surprised, but, too, he showed every symptom of intense pleasure. He
displayed anxiety as to what the girl might have said. Then, when he
learned that she had said nothing at all, he appeared greatly relieved.
He seemed pleased to learn that she was still unconscious.

Ichabod, wonderingly, thought that he heard the stranger say:

"Thank God!"

The boat was no sooner beached than the man who had been rescued leaped
ashore, still carrying in his hand the small physician's bag. He raced
toward the cabin, as if he felt that life or death depended on his
haste.

Captain Ichabod suddenly felt very old and worn. He had used too much
energy in this work of rescue, and now the reaction set in. He dawdled
over the securing of the skiff. Then he made his way with lagging steps
toward the cabin. He pushed open the door, and was startled to behold
the man he had rescued kneeling beside the couch of the girl. At the
noise of the opening door, the man sprang to his feet.... Ichabod
wondered as he glimpsed an object that shone like silver, and then was
slipped cautiously into the man's coat pocket.

Captain Ichabod approached the bed upon which the girl lay motionless.
He noticed on the forearm a tiny drop of blood. He wondered also over
this, then solved the puzzle to his satisfaction by thinking that a
mosquito had left this trace of its attack. He was confirmed in the
opinion by the fact that there was a white blotch beneath the touch of
crimson.

Captain Ichabod tried to question the man he had saved, but fou