"Thank you," she said, quietly.
"By gad, she's got grit!" muttered the young man, scrambling forward
over the prostrate forms of the other passengers. "I wonder if all the
women in the world are this way?" He was remembering the bravery of
Polly Candage.
There was a huge coil of rope in the bow, spare cable stored there. Mayo
made fast the free end, working as rapidly as he was able, and bundled
about half the coil into a compact mass--a knob at the end of some ten
fathoms of line. And to this knob he lashed oars and the mast he found
stowed in the boat. He knew that if they did get free from the schooner
only an efficient sea-anchor or drag would keep the yawl right side up.
When this task was finished he crouched low in the bow and looked at the
girl.
"We're about ready to start on our journey," he called to her. "If I
don't see you again, good-by!"
"I shall not say good-by to you, Captain Mayo--not yet!"