Beadle's Dime Novels No. 131 — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

WATCHING AND PRAYING. 21 and eddied back without a victim. The boat's crew were drag- ged inland to the fires. Ten men from the doomed ship had saved their lives by extraordinary skill in keeping their frail boat from swamp- ing. Two or three of the ship’s officers were among these men. “I’m almost certain the other boat went down,” said the first mate, turning an anxious eye to the weather-quarter from which he had just escaped. “The captain was aboard of her, and our only passenger, as bright and pleasant a lad as ever cheered a ship, with ten others of the crew. I think I saw her go down before we were out of sight. It’s no use, my brave fellows, to risk your lives in that devil’s. cauldron. If they swamped they’re beyond help now, and we left nothing alive on the vessel.” “We may pick up a man or two,” said Hardy Joe, sturdily. “T ’spose a life or two is worth the ‘tryin’.” With a persistency, which looked as much like obstinacy as courage, he pushed his surf-boat out again, taking his own place as steersman, she being guided by a long oar instead of a paddle. His six men urged themselves to their dangerous work. Watching for the outflow of a heavy wave, they pushed out into the flying foam, with remarkable. skill, and the life-boat was tossed beyond sight in a moment. All the red roses which cold nor wind could beat out of Tangee’s cheek, faded then. Pale and silent, with her hands holding the hair back from her ears, as_if she could thus heer tidings from the roaring tempest, she stood for a full hour, watching the ocean, heedless of the exciting scenes behind her, where the sailors were being warmed and revived, and were telling the story of their shipwreck. Many eyes beside her own bent anxious looks seaward; but she was wrapped, absorbed beyond all other thought or interest. After along, long watch, her sharp gaze detected something on the waves. She called the attention of others to it. It was—no, it was not—yes, it was a boat! Frail it looked, as an egg-shell or a leaf, as the storm-god tossed it about with laugh- ter at its littleness. But there were mighty hearts within it— hearts of men tried from childhood to peril, familiar enough - with old ocean to answer her back with the laughter of comicloolks.comn