ked up one of the boats from the ferry."

"Uncle Benny and Alan Conrad were not in it," she returned; the triumph
she had seen in him had told her that.

"No; it was the first boat put off by the ferry, with the passengers
and cabin maid and some injured men of the crew."

"Were they--alive?" her voice hushed tensely.

"Yes; that is, they were able to revive them all; but it didn't seem
possible to the _Richardson's_ officers that any one could be revived
who had been exposed much longer than that; so the _Richardson's_ given
up the search, and some of the other ships that were searching have
given up too, and gone on their course."

"When did you hear that, Henry? I was just speaking with the office."

"A few minutes ago; a news wire got it before any one else; it didn't
come through the office."

"I see; how many were in the boat?"

"Twelve, Connie."

"Then all the vessels up there won't give up yet!"

"Why not?"

"I was just talking with Miss Bennet, Henry; she's heard again from the
other end of the lake. The people up there say the Drum is beating,
but it's beating short still!"

"Short!"

She saw Henry stiffen. "Yes," she said swiftly. "They say the Drum
began sounding last night, and that at first it sounded for only two
lives; it's kept on beating, but still is beating only for four. There
were thirty-nine on the ferry--seven passengers and thirty-two crew.
Twelve have been saved now; so until the Drum raises the beats to
twenty-seven there is still a chance that some one will be saved."

Henry made no answer; his hands fumbled purposelessly with the lapels
of his coat, and his bloodshot eyes wandered uncertainly. Constance
watched him with wonder at the effect of what she had told. When she
had asked him once about the Drum, he had professed the same scepticism
which she had; but he had not held it; at least he was not holding it
now. The news of the Drum had shaken him from his triumph over Alan
and Uncle Benny and over her. It had shaken him so that, though he
remained with her some minutes more, he seemed to have forgotten the
purpose of reconciliation with her which had brought him to the house.
When a telephone call took her out of the room, she returned to find
him gone to the dining-room; she heard a decanter clink there against a
glass. He did not return to her again, but she heard him go. The
entrance door closed after him, and the sound of his starting motor
came. Then al