the hands into the dory that had been rowing astern. He and
Wilbur followed. Charlie was left on board, with directions to
lay the schooner to. The dory flew over the water, Wilbur setting
the stroke. In a few moments she was well up with the bark.
Though a larger boat than the "Bertha Millner," she was rolling in
lamentable fashion, and every laboring heave showed her bottom
incrusted with barnacles and seaweed.

Her fore and main tops'ls and to'gallants'ls were set, as also
were her lower stays'ls and royals. But the braces seemed to have
parted, and the yards were swinging back and forth in their ties.
The spanker was brailed up, and the spanker boom thrashed idly
over the poop as the bark rolled and rolled and rolled. The
mainmast was working in its shoe, the rigging and backstays
sagged. An air of abandonment, of unspeakable loneliness, of
abomination hung about her. Never had Wilbur seen anything more
utterly alone. Within three lengths the Captain rose in his place
and shouted:

"Bark ahoy!" There was no answer. Thrice he repeated the call,
and thrice the dismal thrashing of the spanker boom and the
flapping of the sails was the only answer. Kitchell turned to
Wilbur in triumph. "I guess she's ours," he whispered. They were
now close enough to make out the bark's name upon her counter,
"Lady Letty," and Wilbur was in the act of reading it aloud, when
a huge brown dorsal fin, like the triangular sail of a lugger, cut
the water between the dory and the bark.

"Shark!" said Kitchell; "and there's another!" he exclaimed in the
next instant, "and another! Strike me, the water's alive with