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Unassisted he could do little with the heavy helm. Barbara saw that he alone of

all the officers and men of the brigantine was making an attempt to save the

vessel. However futile the effort might be, it at least bespoke the coolness and

courage of the man. With the sight of him there wrestling with death in a

hopeless struggle a little wave of pride surged through the girl. Here indeed was a

man! And he loved her--that she knew. Whether or no she returned his love her

place was beside him now, to give what encouragement and physical aid lay in

her power.

Quickly she ran to the wheelhouse. Theriere saw her and smiled.

"There's no hope, I'm afraid," he said; "but, by George, I intend to go down

fighting, and not like those miserable yellow curs."

Barbara did not reply, but she grasped the spokes of the heavy wheel and tugged

as he tugged. Theriere made no effort to dissuade her from the strenuous labor--

every ounce of weight would help so much, and the man had a wild, mad idea

that he was attempting to put into effect.

What do you hope to do?" asked the girl. "Make that opening in the cliffs?"

Theriere nodded.

Do you think me crazy?" he asked.

It is such a chance as only a brave man would dare to take," she replied. "Do you

think that we can get her to take it?"

"I doubt it," he answered. "With another man at the wheel we might, though."

Below them the crew of the Halfmoon ran hither and thither along the deck on

the side away from the breakers. They fought with one another for useless bits of

planking and cordage. The giant figure of the black cook, Blanco, rose above the

others. In his hand was a huge butcher knife. When he saw a piece of wood he

coveted in the hands of another he rushed upon his helpless victim with wild,

bestial howls, menacing him with his gleaming weapon. Thus he was rapidly

accumulating the material for a life raft.

But there was a single figure upon the deck that did not seem mad with terror. A

huge fellow he was who stood leaning against the capstan watching the wild

antics of his fellows with a certain wondering expression of incredulity, the while

a contemptuous smile curled his lips. As Barbara Harding chanced to look in his

direction he also chanced to turn his eyes toward the wheelhouse. It was the

mucker.

The Mucker