me hopeful. The men gradually knocked off
work, and lay down, and finally I also yielded to her pleadings and
fell into a sound sleep.

It seemed as though I scarcely lost consciousness, yet I must have
slept for an hour or more, my head pillowed on her lap. What aroused
me I could not determine, but Schmitt was again at the steering
paddle, and both he and Dorothy were staring across me out over the
port quarter, as though at some vision in the distance, sufficiently
strange to enchain their entire attention.

"What is it?" I asked eagerly, but before the words were entirely
uttered, a hoarse voice forward bawled out excitedly.

"There you see it; straight out agin that cloud edge. By God, it's a
full-rigged schooner."

"Ay," boomed another, "a headin' straight cross our course astern."

I sat up, ignoring all else, thoroughly awake from excitement, gazing
under hollowed hands in the direction the men pointed. For an instant
I distinguished nothing but sea and sky, with patches of white cloud
speckling the horizon. My heart sank with the belief that one of these
had been mistaken for the sheen of a distant sail. Then as our boat
was suddenly flung higher on the crest of a great wave, my straining
eyes caught the unmistakable glimmer of canvas, could even detect its
outline plainly delineated against the blue background. I reached my
feet, clinging to the mast to keep erect and, as the boat was again
flung upward, gained clearly the glimpse I sought.

"Ay, you're right, lads!" I exclaimed. "It's a schooner, headed to
clear us by a hundred fathoms. Port your helm Schmitt--hard down man.
Watch out the boom don't hit you, Miss Fairfax. Now, Sam, off with
that red shirt; tie it on the boat hook, and let fly. They can't help
seeing us if there is any watch on deck."

We swept about in a wide circle, shipping some water as we dipped
gunwale under, but came safely out from the smother, headed straight
across the bows of the oncoming vessel. All eyes stared out
watchfully, Sam's shirt flapping above us, and both Watkins and
Schmitt straining their muscles to hold the plunging quarter-boat
against the force of the wind. A man forward on his knees growled out
a curse.

"What the hell's the matter aboard there?" he yelled. "Did yer ever
see a boat yaw like that, afore? Damn me, if I believe they got a
hand at the wheel."

The same thought had leaped into my mind. The schooner was headed to
pass us on the port quarter,