II

HOW A GIRL APPEARED OUT OF THE NIGHT


O'Neil felt for the little bracket-lamp on the wall of his
stateroom and lit it. By its light he dragged a life-preserver
from the rack overhead and slipped the tapes about his shoulders,
reflecting that Alaskan waters are disagreeably cold. Then he
opened his traveling-bags and dumped their contents upon the
white counterpane of his berth, selecting out of the confusion
certain documents and trinkets. The latter he thrust into his
pockets as he found them, the former he wrapped in handkerchiefs
before stowing them away. The ship had listed now so that it was
difficult to maintain a footing; the lamp hung at a grotesque
angle and certain articles had become dislodged from their
resting-places. From outside came the gentle lapping of waters, a
gurgling and hissing as of air escaping through the decks. He
could feel the ship strain. He acknowledged that it was not
pleasant thus to be left alone on a sinking hulk, particularly on
an ink-black night--

All at once he whirled and faced the door with an exclamation of
astonishment, for a voice had addressed him.

There,--clinging to the casing, stood a woman--a girl--evidently