w."

The rain came, beating the waves down, seemingly, for a moment, beating
out the wind itself. In the partial silence the sharp explosions of the
gasoline-engine echoed like volleys of pistol-shots; and Haltren half
rose in his pitching boat, and shouted: "Launch ahoy! Run under the lee
shore. There's a hurricane coming! You haven't a second to lose!"

He heard somebody aboard the launch say, distinctly, "There's a Florida
cracker alongside who says a hurricane is about due." The shrill roar of
the rain drowned the voice. Haltren bent to his oars again. Then a young
man in dripping white flannels looked out of the wheel-house and hailed
him. "We've grounded on the meadows twice. If you know the channel you'd
better come aboard and take the wheel."

Haltren, already north of the inlet and within the zone of safety,
rested on his oars a second and looked back, listening. Very far away he
heard the deep whisper of death.

On board the launch the young man at the wheel heard it, too; and he
hailed Haltren in a shaky voice: "I wouldn't ask you to come back, but
there are women aboard. Can't you help us?"

"All right," said Haltren.

A horrible white glare broke out through the haze; the solid vertical
torrent of rain swayed, then slanted eastward.

A wave threw him alongside the launch; he scrambled over the low rail
and ran forward, deafened by the din. A woman in oilskins hung to the
companion-rail; he saw her white face as he passed. Haggard, staggering,
he entered the wheel-house, where the young man in dripping flannels
seized his arm, calling him by name. Haltren pushed him aside.

"Give me that wheel, Darrow," he said, hoarsely. "Ring full speed ahead!
Now stand clear--"

Like an explosion the white tornado burst, burying deck and wheel-house
in foam; a bellowing fury of tumbling waters enveloped the launch.
Haltren hung to the wheel one second, two, five, ten; and at last
through the howling chaos his stunned ears caught the faint staccato
spat! puff! spat! of the exhaust. Thirty seconds more--if the engines
could stand it--if they only could stand it!

They stood it for thirty-three seconds and went to smash. A terrific
squall, partly deflected from the forest, hurled the launch into the
swamp, now all boiling in shallow foam; and there she stuck in the good,
thick mud, heeled over and all awash like a stranded razor-back after a
freshet.

Twenty minutes later the sun came out; the waters of the lago