While he sat there in the cabin, smoking and meditating, letting us into his thoughts every now and then, the voices of some of our crew were heard on deck.
We all went up and got the word that was being passed around. A coast steamer had just come to anchor in the harbor with the report that just outside--about ten miles to the west'ard--was a vessel, dismasted and clean-swept, and dragging toward the rocks. They could not help her themselves--too rough--a hurricane outside--to launch a boat was out of the question. They didn't mind taking a chance, they said, but to attempt her rescue would be suicide.
It looked like a pretty hard chance going out in that gale, but Clancy didn't wait. "Nobody else seems to be hurrying to get out, and we being the able-est looking craft in the harbor, I
