s taking me to my home--to Roy. He has stopped only long enough to
rescue another sufferer from the jaws of death--even as he rescued me.
He is a hero."

CHAPTER XV

ADRIFT WITH A MADMAN

The afflicted child showed marked signs of improvement by the time _The
Isabel's_ tender, with its tow, reached the small hamlet of Atlantic--a
cluster of fishermen's houses and two stores built on a bluff to the
westerly side of Core Sound. There the disabled boat was pulled out upon
the beach so that the stem was exposed and workmen could get at the
injured shaft. The work of repair was simple. Soon the craft was
restored to running condition, and its passengers went on their way,
their hearts filled with new hopes for the safety of the child.

Ethel remained at the wharf, since the steep climb up the bluff must
have proved too trying for her injured ankle. But the Doctor, acting
under the girl's instructions, made his way up the hillside to the
stores in order to purchase for her some necessary apparel to replace
that lost in the wreck. There was occasion also to buy additional
gasoline for the launch. With these things provided, the two again set
forth on their voyaging.

The physician, though he appeared genial enough, was in fact greatly
perturbed. He had tried in vain to secure morphia at either of the
stores in Atlantic. He took advantage of his absence from Ethel to
administer another injection, so that for the present the craving was
stilled. But he was filled with dread for the future. While the launch
moved forward steadily through the calm water, he secretly counted again
the pellets remaining in the vial. Heartsick, he realized the truth. It
was a matter only of a few hours before his stock of the drug would be
entirely exhausted. In such a situation, knowing as he did the horrible
suffering that must ensue to him for lack of morphia, Garnet did not
hesitate. He had learned by inquiries that there was a physician at
Portsmouth, on the south side of Ocracoke Inlet, at the extreme
northerly end of Core Banks. He must direct the launch thither, there to
seek relief from his fellow practitioner. There was even the possibility
of whiskey to mitigate his torture, for as one of the natives had
informed him in Atlantic, "No'th Caroliny wasn't plumb bone-dry."

For some time now, Ethel Marion had closely watched her companion. She
could not but perceive how different was his manner from that of the man
who, for year