size
of a towel, everything on deck's lashed solid, and the glass is lookin'
sicker'n ever. Then dad says we'd best take precautions, so he tries to
house the top-masts, and sends down for a drum of oil.

The sky's like copper edged with sheet lightning, then there's scud in a
hurry overhead, the horizon folding in, and a funnel-shaped cloud to the
southard wrapping up the sky. There's no air, and I noticed the binnacle
alight, so it must have been nigh dark under that funnel cloud. Just as
it struck, some one called out "All aboard!" and I heard the mate yell,
"You mean, all overboard!"

Couldn't see much at first, as I was busy getting mother out of the
drowned cabin. When I'd passed a halyard round her and the stump of the
mizzen, I'd just breathing time. The sea was flattened, white under
black sky, and what was left of us was mostly blowing about. I felt
sorry for Pierre--gone after his rosary beads, and Mick, too--he'd owed
me a dollar. I missed the masts some, and the bowsprit. Galley gone,
too, and the good old dinghy staved to kindlings. The ship's cat was
mewing around with no curling-up corner left.

Dad was just taking command again of what remained. No use shouting
either, so he hung on and beckoned. The masts overside were battering
holes in us, until we cut adrift. Then to the pumps, but that was sort
of _ex officio_ just to keep us warm. Working's warmer than waiting.

Being timber-laden we couldn't sink, which was convenient. But, as
mother said, there wasn't any grub on the roof, and we couldn't go
down-stairs. For instance, we wanted a drink of water.

Well, now, we been three days refreshing our parched mouths with beer
stories, when a fishing vessel comes along smelling salvage. Happens
he's one of them felucca-rigged dago swine out of Invicta, Texas.
Daresn't tow a hair-brush across a wash pail for fear of getting fouled
in his own hawser. But he's a champion artist at gesticulations, so he'd
like to get his picture in the papers for rescuing shipwrecked mariners.
His charges was quite moderate, too, for a breaker of water and some
fancy grub--until we seen the bill.

I never knew till then that our old man was owner. Of course that's all
right, only he'd run astern with his insurance. That's why he'd stay
with the ship, so it's no good talking. As to mother, she come aboard
the feluccy, ship's cat in her arms, and a sort of cold, dumb,
going-to-be-good-and-it's-killin'-me sort of smile. She