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Show " ' "t SttqbtN Awts Williams j . aVr f - " "" SYNOPSIS Oivti-f M.'Ausl.iml v.i S.H yi-iira olii wtu-u lie s.uU-vi liinn Aim'rU'a to muter. lake h! post rts a tnlMonary In the Kijl lM.-tn.l A i-rime he h;ut i-omntltlnt' In tt tit I'f ewltenu'llt tuut sh.i teiVit till hts iMiituU'iwe m himself. He (elt tiVivtM to aout pretty Muiy 1mu'.isU'i v ho board-ex! board-ex! the ship at Honolulu. Shct was en ivute to visit tier parents, who were missionaries on lllle.ul lslaiut. Mary was attracted ty cieore's attempts to void her. CII.UM'K.R I Continued "So you're sorry for that poor young man?" John Gale asked. "Yes," said Mary. He'd be nice if he didn't think he had to be so severe! And when I speak to him, he jumps as though I'd stuck a pin In him. Mrs. Gale says he wants to talk to me and doesn't know how. He'd feel so much better if he just did." "You think he does want to talk to you?" "Of course! Why shouldn't he? I'm young, and pretty, and friendly, and nice; and he's not nearly as old as he thinks he is. You watch him, sometime, when I'm talking with Joseph Neargood." They heard a cry forward, and Mary leaped past the old man to look overside. George McAusland somehow had fallen off the stage, had toppled into the sea. "He can't swim!" Mary Doncas-ter Doncas-ter exclaimed. The old minister heard the hiss of torn garments; and, an instant later, she stepped out of her skirts and petticoats, and slim and white in less encumbering encumber-ing apparel vaulted easily over the rail into the sea. The deck was a scurry ol activity. John Gale kept his eye fixed on these two dark spots that were heads, in the vast waste of ocean, hidden as they dipped into the trough between great swells, lifting on the crests again into his view. CHAPTER n At the moment when Mary Don-caster Don-caster leaped overboard, George was almost directly below her. She jumped wide of the vessel's side in order to clear him; and when she came to the surface again, the ship, towering high, was gliding smoothly away across the silent sea. From her decks shouts came back to the girl, and she saw the splash of a grating thrown overboard, and knew help would come quickly. But in the meantime this helpless George McAusland had sunk, sucked under in the burble at the ship's stem. Mary swam toward the spot where he had disappeared, and saw his floundering arm break the surface. sur-face. He coughed and gasped and muttered something; and she heard the words: "Into Thy hands . . ." She felt a hot impatience with him because he did not know how to swim, and because he now surrendered surren-dered so supinely. She cried: "Don't talk so silly! You're not going to drown! You're all right! I've got you. Lie still." At her voice behind him, George stiffened rigidly, and a little wave crest lapped across his face and into his open mouth, and he gagged and revolved in the water like a crocodile croco-dile twisting to tear oft the gout of flesh in which its teeth are set He rolled over facing her and tried to clutch at her. She dove instantly, escaping his grasp, and ruthlessly caught his foot and pulled him under un-der water. Then she slipped up past him, clear of his hands that were like talons, and from behind him caught his collar again and drew him to the surface. She was on guard against any sudden sud-den movement by George; but he now submitted, rigid as an oar. Yet he was heavy, and his clothes were heavy, and the grating was farther away than she had thought Before she reached it, she was tired, her heart pounding. The ship now was almost broadside to. She hoped someone aboard had had the wit to keep an eye on them; and then she saw a man in the rigging, pointing in their direction; and when the next swell lifted them, she saw a boat in the water between them and the ship, the oars glinting in the sun, racing this way like a spider. She told George: "Hold on to the grating. Don't try to climb on it. Just hold on." His fingers clutched the edge, and she released him and moved away out of his reach. He said humbly: "I can't swim." She laughed, herself easier now. "I noticed that! You'll learn. Everyone Every-one swims in the Islands. I could swim before I could walk, I think. The boat's near." His teeth were chattering. "You're not cold," she said. "That's just nerves. Don't worry, we could float like this for days." She talked more and more swiftly, fighting to hold him up with words; for under her eyes strength visibly flowed out of him. Yet he must hold on a minute more, a minute more . . . The boat reached them. The mate was in the stern; two sailors at the oars. "Take him first, Mr. Chase," she said quietly. "He's tiring." They hauled George McAusland over the gunwale, and he collapsed in the bottom of the boat between the oarsmen and the mate. "I'll come in over the bow," she said. The mate swung the boat and she-caught she-caught the bow and with a deep klek of her feet thrust herself upward, up-ward, swung one leg over the gunwale, gun-wale, clambered In. The mate said: "Here's my coat, Miss Doneuster." When they came alongside, the rail was lined above them. A sailor gave Mary a hand up, cupping her foot ill his palm, and Captain Keen reached down to help her. On deck, Mrs. Gale had a long coat to put around the girl. Mrs. Gale said: "Run and change, Mary." Hut the girl stayed a moment mo-ment to be sure George was all right. They were rigging a whip to hoist him aboard, since he was still too weak from the shock of his immersion im-mersion to help himself. The mate and the sailors watched him gravely. grave-ly. Mary, understanding that he would not want her to see htm thus, went below, leaving him to other hands. George even when he was safe on deck was barely able to stand. John Gale said to him: "Well, it's lucky for you Miss Doncastcr was aboard." "Y'es. I'd have drowned. Where Is she?" "In her cabin, changing," "I want to thank her." "Later. The first thing Is dry clothes for you, and a noggin of But the girl stayed a moment to be sore George was all right. rum. Y'ou're blue with cold. Come along." George followed obediently; but he refused the rum. He shook with a teeth-chattering chill till he had rubbed himself dry and glowing. Then he lay down under blankets to warm himself, and slept till John Gale came to rouse him for supper. "All right?" the older man asked. "I thought you were probably asleep, needed sleep more than anything." any-thing." "Y'es. I'm fine. I'll be along." But he was slow in dressing, dreading the necessity of meeting Mary and of thanking her. When he came out into the main cabin, the others except John Gale and the Captain had finished supper and were already on deck. "Gone to watch the sunset," the old minister explained. "It promised to be fine." George was relieved at this postponement; post-ponement; but when he and John Gale presently went on deck the sun was gone, the sky fading fast to the deep blue of night he faced his duty. Mary was in the waist with Mrs. Gale. He went toward them, and they saw him coming, and Mrs. Gale asked: "All right now?" "Fine," he told her. She said some approving word and went aft, leaving him alone with Mary. He wished to ask Mrs. Gale to stay; turned to face Mary reluctantly. She smiled, understanding, and said quickly: "It's all right You needn't thank me." "I want to," he told her, blurting out the words; and then he spoke the phrase he had decided was most suitable. "I owe you more than I can ever pay." Mary smiled. "I'm glad you feel so much in debt to me. It will be fun to have you try to pay. Be very nice to me, won't you?" But then she relented, seeing his embarrassment em-barrassment and said quickly: "It wasn't anything, really. I could have kept you afloat all day." "I'm sorry you had to . . ."He hesitated. "Well, I mean . . . Well, I know how brave you were, how hard it was to do what you did." Mary frowned a little, puzzled, and then suddenly understanding. 'Oh, you mean because I took off a few petticoats?" He insisted stubbornly: "I know what it must have meant to you." She touched his hand. "You're sweet; but honestly, I didn't mind. I didn't even think of it. Naturally I couldn't swim in a lot of petticoats." And she said, faintly amused: "You know, Mr. McAusland, you'll have to learn to look at so many things differently on the Islands; to learn new ways." "I hope instead of learning their ways, I can teach them ours. Do you remember a lot about your childhood down here?" She looked at him in a quick satis faction. "I think that's the first question I ever heard you nsk," she declared. "Yes, of roiir.se I tlo. After till, I'vo only been tiway eight or nine years." "You seem glad to come back." "Of coursel I'm coming back to my home, to my father and mother! moth-er! This Is where I live, really. I just went away to school, you know. I lived with my mint In New Iled-ford. Iled-ford. Aunt Tatty llanline. Uncle Tom was away all the time; only came home twice. He's mate on the Venturer, Cap'n Corr's whaler." George echoed: "A whaler?" He said with a strong distaste: "Cork-ran's "Cork-ran's told me stories about the whalers, the whaleships. They've ruined these Islands." "Whalers aren't so bad. New Bedford's full of them. The Venturer Ven-turer Is a fine ship. I know Cap'n Corr. His sons are mates aboard her. I knew them both In New Bedford. Bed-ford. Peter was In the same school with me; and Richard too, for a while, years ago. He went to sea as cabin boy first, and then came home and came to school for two years, and then went fourth mate with his father again." Her eyes were dancing, amused at his expression. ex-pression. "I thought Richard was pretty wonderful, and Peter too, of course. Richard was so shy he hardly hard-ly looked at me, but I worshiped him. Y'ou know how little girls ore." "I'm afraid I don't know much about little girls." She smiled. "Or big ones, either, do you, Mr. McAusland," she challenged; chal-lenged; and then she told him quickly: quick-ly: "But maybe you'll see them. Richard and Peter, I mean. Cap'n Corr promised to put in at Gilcad to see my father and mother on this voyage. Mother's Uncle Tom's sister. Maybe we'll find them at Gilead when we get there. I hope so." He asked In curiously thick tones: "Why? Because you want to see your uncle again?" "I want to see them all. of course," she said. He said, after a moment, almost wistfully: "I've never known young men. My brothers were a lot older than I." "I know," she assented softly. "Y'ou haven't known young women either, have you?" "No." She said, smiling In the darkness, as though he were a child: "I knew you wanted to be friendly with me, but you didn't quite know how." "I want to be friendly with everyone! every-one! " "But specially with me, a little, don't you?" she urged. "Only you're sort of afraid?" "I don't think so!" he protested, half-resentful. "Oh, but you are," she Insisted. "Y'ou're afraid to do the things you want to do." He swung toward her as though startled; but someone spoke behind them. Suddenly George sneezed. "Y'ou'd better go below, hadn't you?" she suggested. "You've taken cold." He blew his nose. "I'm afraid I have." They went aft together. Mrs. Gale prescribed hot lemonade, but George protested that he was all right till he sneezed again. Then he consented to go below. During the days that followed. John Gale was pleased to see that having taken the plunge, George no longer avoided Mary. They were much together, as often forward as on the after deck. Under Corkran's instructions they practiced rope work and listened to his tall tales. Mary led him to talk of whaling; and sometimes Corkran told of bloody battles with Leviathan that made George's pulse pound, and sometimes he made them laugh together to-gether in a gleeful incredulity. They sighted the tip of Gilead's highest peak one day as the sea cut the sun's disk in half. At dawn they were close aboard, or seemed to be, although still ten or twelve miles distant Mary was with Captain Keen, and George joined them and asked a question; and Mary said: "We'll come to a big bay presently, present-ly, with room for a hundred ships. It runs deep into the Island, over two miles, and there's a small Island Is-land in the mouth of the bay, so there are really two ways in. The bay narrows all the way to the beach at the inner end. You'll see!" Her eyes were happy with anticipation. "Father and Mother will come out to meet us," she predicted. pre-dicted. "Will they be keeping a lookout?" "Oh no, but someone will see us." She pointed ahead. "That's the entrance, en-trance, Cap'n Keen. You can't see it yet, but that rock that looks like a hill with no trees on it is the island in the mouth of the bay." The Captain asked: "We go in south of it, don't we?" "Whichever's easiest, according to the wind. There's deep water everywhere, ev-erywhere, even close in to shore. The best holding ground is about a mile this side of the beach." Captain Keen nodded. Mary went forward, George with her; and she pointed out to him things familiar to her eyes, which his could not ye' perceive. (TO BF. COMIMEDj |