bed it good an' proper. It took three of
them to haul me up, but I clung to the red oar and that's how I'm here
this minute. Likewise, it's why the oar is here with me."

There was a long pause. The girls had been thrilled with the simple
recital, so void of anything like conceit in the part that Denny
himself had played in the work of rescue.

CHAPTER V

TWO MEN

"And the red oar won out," Cora remarked, looking at the old relic
with something akin to reverence. "Perhaps, after all, there is
something in luck."

"Looked like it," agreed Denny. "And after we got back Len couldn't
pay any attention to the half-frozen men, or to me, that had been
pretty well chilled--all he could do was talk about the luck of that
oar."

"I don't blame him," Freda put in. "Your rope had nearly burned, your
light oar broke, one of the heavy pair went overboard and this one did
most of the work getting back, I suppose."

"Right," said Denny, "for while we had another pair to work with, they
were slim, and weak, but that fellow, it sure was tough then; but
lately when I take it down it seems to have shrunk, for it's gettin'
lighter, somehow."

"And how did you come to get it?" asked Cora.

"That's the end of my story," said Denny. "When Len was taken very
sick, of course I used to stay with me friend as much as I could."

Freda unconsciously pushed her chair nearer the old man. Surely to
hear of the last days of her good grandfather's life was a matter too
important to pass over lightly.

"Your father was livin' then, Freddie," Denny went on, "and a fine
healthy young man, too."

"Father died so suddenly," said Freda, "mother hardly ever speaks of
his death. She always seems overcome after talking of it."

"That was a sad thing," Denny digressed. "To go off in the morning,
a-whistlin' and happy, and to be brought home without a word in him.
Freddie, dear, I oughtn't to talk of it."

Freda brushed aside a tear. Her father's death had been caused by
apoplexy, when she was but a mite of a child.

"But the queer part of it was that your grandfather seemed to think I
would outlive his son, and John such a strappin'-lookin' fellow,"
resumed Denny. "Len called me to him, and him sick and miserable, and
he says: 'Denny, John's not as strong as he looks, and I want you to
do all you can to help Louisa,' (your mother of course, Freddie), 'for
she has the child to raise,' he said. Well, he wouldn't let me
interrupt him when