orth all the strength of his young body to do so
single-handed. To jump on board and take up an oar was the work of
half a minute, and Geoff was pushing off without a thought of anybody
else when a hoarse shout stayed him.

'Stay, muster!' panted Binks, hurrying to the edge. 'Two's better than
one; two oars will reach 'em quicker!' and in scrambled the breathless
old man, drops of perspiration rolling unheeded down his wrinkled
cheeks.

Not another word was spoken by either as the man and boy tore through
the water, with all the strength they possessed. Geoff silently
watched Binks's face, trying to read, in its strained lines, the fate
of those behind his back. But the boy's white, dry lips refused to
utter the terrible question, 'Are they still above water?' Geoff's
brain seemed too paralysed to think. Every sense was merged in the mad
race of trying to cut still faster through the water to the rescue.
The hard, brown visage of Binks was a dead wall as he pulled and puffed
and panted. From it Geoff could gain no information, and, somehow, for
his life, the boy dare not turn his head to see over his shoulder for
himself.

On the shore the women-workers had at last awoke to the fact of the
tragedy being enacted on the blue waters, and in the full blaze of the
summer sunshine, almost within their reach. Wild cries of affright
arose; the brown nets were flung aside this way and that. Bewildered
groups stood close down to the water's edge tremblingly wringing their
hands in miserable helplessness, and their eyes starting out of their
heads as their gaze clung, glued, to the little craft slowly, slowly
settling down.

CHAPTER XIV

A DOOR OF ESCAPE

It was a spell of long-drawn-out anguish for the watchers on shore, the
while that Theo Carnegy and little Queenie sank helplessly in their
rapidly filling boat. From one to another of the cottages round the
bay the news had flown like wild-fire that the captain's boat, with the
captain's daughters, was going down within sight, and not a man nor a
boy in Northbourne village but was out at sea since daybreak, for the
'mackerrow' were proving a little gold-mine to the community, and the
fishermen grudged to sleep or eat, so eager were they to make hay while
the sun was shining.

The women would not have thought twice of taking to the boats
themselves and attempting a rescue, but all the decent crafts were at
sea; the few that were beached were useless, bei