boat's side, pushed
the dory clear. Then he began rowing again.

So far he had been more successful than he had reason to expect, but the
task that he must now accomplish was not less difficult. He must reach
the shore safely, and with another life beside his own to guard.

It was out of the question to attempt to get back to the cove; the
landing must be made on the open beach, and, although Captain Eri had
more than once brought a dory safely through a high surf, he had never
attempted it when his boat had nearly a foot of water in her and carried
a helpless passenger.

Little by little, still running before the wind, the Captain edged in
toward the shore. Luther Davis moved once or twice, but said nothing.
His oilskins were frozen stiff and his beard was a lump of ice. Captain
Eri began to fear that he might die from cold and exhaustion before the
attempt at landing was made. The Captain resolved to wait no longer, but
to take the risk of running directly for the beach.

He was near enough now to see the leaping spray of the breakers, and
their bellow sounded louder than the howl of the wind or the noises
of the sea about him. He bent forward and shouted in the ear of the
prostrate life-saver.

"Luther!" he yelled, "Lute!"

Captain Davis' head rolled back, his eyes opened, and, in a dazed way,
he looked at the figure swinging back and forth with the oars.

"Lute!" shouted Captain Eri, "listen to me! I'm goin' to try to land.
D'you hear me?"

Davis' thoughts seemed to be gathering slowly. He was, ordinarily, a man
of strong physique, courageous, and a fighter every inch of him, but his
strength had been beaten out by the waves and chilled by the cold,
and the sight of the men with whom he had lived and worked for years
drowning one by one, had broken his nerve. He looked at his friend, and
then at the waves.

"What's the use?" he said feebly. "They're all gone. I might as well go,
too."

Captain Eri's eyes snapped. "Lute Davis," he exclaimed, "I never thought
I'd see you playin' crybaby. Brace up! What are you, anyway?"

The half-frozen man made a plucky effort.

"All right, Eri," he said. "I'm with you, but I ain't much good."

"Can you stand up?"

"I don't know. I'll try."

Little by little he raised himself to his knees.

"'Bout as fur's I can go, Eri," he said, between his teeth. "You look
out for yourself. I'll do my durndest."

The dory was caught by the first of the great waves, and, on it