I tore off my overcoat, scrambled to the little deck, wound one arm about
a post, and waved the coat frantically.

Nearer and nearer we came to the steamer. More and more I feared that
the signal might be unnoticed, or noticed too late. But it wasn't.

I have known some happy sights in my time, but I never saw anything that
filled me with one-half the joy I felt on realizing that the
steamer-people were lowering one of their boats.

They were doing it, there was no doubt about the matter. In five minutes
we should be near enough to their cutter to swim for it.

I dived to the stern to awaken Hawkins.

He was already awake. He stood
there, tousled and happy, sniffing the crisp air, and he had seen the
approaching boat.

"Got it ready?" he inquired, placidly.

"Got what ready?"

"Why, the message," exclaimed Hawkins, opening his eyes in astonishment.
"We'll have to hustle with it, I reckon."

"Hawkins, what new idiocy is this?" I gasped.

"Surely we're going to give that steamer a few lines to tell the world
about our trip?"