recovered his breath, then cast about for
means of getting on board. He felt that the tablecloth would not bear
his weight and that of his water-soaked clothing, and temporarily gave
up the plan of climbing it.

Forward were the signal halyards; but they, too, were of small line,
and, even if doubled again and again until strong enough, he knew by
experience the wonderful strength of arm required in climbing out of
the water hand over hand. This thought also removed the tablecloth from
the problem; but suggested another by its association with the necessity
of feet in climbing with wet clothes.

He remembered that forward, just under the anchor davit, was a small,
fixed ladder, bolted into the bow of the boat for use in getting the
anchor. So, cautioning Sampson not to let go, he swam forward, with
Florrie's frightened face following above, and, reaching the ladder,
easily climbed on board. He was on the high forecastle deck, but the
girl had reached it before him.

"Billie," she exclaimed, as she approached him. "Oh, Billie--"

He caught her just as her face grew white and her figure limp, and
forgot Sampson for the moment. The kisses he planted on her lips and
cheek forestalled the fainting spell, and she roused herself.

"I thought you would drown, Billie," she said, weakly, with her face of
a deeper pink than he had seen. "Don't drown, Billie--don't do that
again. Don't leave me alone."

"I won't, Florrie," he answered, stoutly and smilingly. "I'm born to be
hanged, you know. I won't drown. Come on--I must get Sampson."

They descended--Denman picking up his pistol on the way--and found
Sampson quietly waiting at the end of the tablecloth. With his life
temporarily safe, his natural courage had come to him.

"I'm going to tow you forward to the anchor ladder, Sampson. You'll have
to climb it the best way you can; for there isn't a purchase on board
that will bear your weight. Hold tight now."

He untied Florrie's knot, and slowly dragged the big man forward,
experiencing a check at the break of the forecastle, where he had to
halt and piece out the tablecloth with a length of signal halyards, but
finally got Sampson to the ladder. Sampson had some trouble in mounting,
for his shackles would not permit one hand to reach up to a rung without
letting go with the other; but he finally accomplished the feat, and
floundered over the rail, where he sat on deck to recover himself.
Finally he scrambled to his feet