ng
sharks. I could not hope to know what his end had been, but I wished
that I might have shared it with him.

I fumbled at the soaked knots of my rope with fingers that had grown
numb. When, at last, I was free and had to some extent restored the
circulation in my stagnant veins, I began the task of freeing my oarless
craft from its wedged position so that the insetting tide might carry me
to the shore.

In the pocket of my pajama jacket, soaked with salt water and almost
reduced to a pulp, I found the letter which I stood charged to deliver
to the girl in Sussex. I laughed. I knew that I was not in reality the
solitary survivor of the _Wastrel_. I was merely the latest survivor. I
was to die more slowly than my fellows. This sun, at the end of my
lingering, would beat down on my bones, whitened, disjointed and perhaps
vulture-plucked. The revolver in my belt was already clouding into red
rust under the washing of the night's salt water. I experimentally
turned the cylinder and found that the corrosion had not yet attacked
the mechanism. One cartridge could cheat my sentence of slow death, yet
I did not fire the shot.

Life had heretofore been a thing I would have willingly surrendered.
Now, I found myself standing precariously on the narrow and very
slippery edge of existence, and with Death advancing on me I no longer
wished to die. The very odds against me brought a dogged desire to cling
until my feet should slip and my fingers could no longer hold their
life-grip. Meantime I should probably go mad, but that lay hereafter. At
present I had only to wait for the tide. Since I could not hurry the
ocean pulse, I must lie there thinking.

From the sea I could look for rescue only by a miracle. What had been
Coulter's course or destination he had not confided, but I knew that we
had for days been in imperfectly charted waters where our screws had
perhaps kicked up a virgin wake. We had passed atolls marked, on the
chart, P. D. and even E. D. ("position doubtful" and "existence
doubtful"), and to hope that some other wanderer might shortly follow
would be taxing coincidence too far.

Only God knew what type of human, animal and reptilian life the island
held. I could view it across the accursedly beautiful waterway and
speculate upon its nature, but I could beat up no confidence in its
treatment of me. Its aspect would have been magnificent had its lush
greenery not wrapped and softened every commanding crag and ang