Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Illustration: "I ain't blamin' her, nor never will"]
BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1897 AND 1898, BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND CO. COPYRIGHT, 1898, BY F. HOPKINSON SMITH ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
I. The Cape Ann Sloop II. A Morning's Mail III. Captain Brandt at the Throttle IV. Among the Blackfish and Tomcods V. Aunty Bell's Kitchen VI. A Little Dinner for Five VII. Betty's First Patient VIII. The "Heave Ho" of Lonny Bowles IX. What the Butcher Saw X. Strains from Bock's 'Cello XI. Captain Joe's Telegram XII. Captain Joe's Creed XIII. A Shanty Door XIV. Two Envelopes XV. A Narrow Path XVI. Under the Willows XVII. The Song of the Fire XVIII. The Equinoctial Gale XIX. From the Lantern Deck XX. At the Pines XXI. The Record of Nickles, the Cook XXII. After the Battle XXIII. A Broken Draw XXIV. The Swinging Gate XXV. Under the Pitiless Stars XXVI. Caleb Trims His Lights
"I ain't blamin' her, nor never will" "Swung back the gate with the gesture of a rollicking boy" "Helen ... in white muslin--not a jewel" "No, it's my Betty" "What's she but a chit of a child that don't know no better" "Sanford ... raised her hand to his lips" "Thank God, Tony! Thank God!" "Victory is ours!" "The diver knelt in a passive, listless way" "Ain't nothin' to skeer ye, child"
The rising sun burned its way through a low-lying mist that hid the river, and flashed its search-light rays over the sleeping city. The blackened tops of the tall stacks caught the signal, and answered in belching clouds of gray steam that turned to gold as they floated upwards in the morning air. The long rows of the many-eyed tenements cresting the hill blinked in the dazzling light, threw wide their shutters, and waved curling smoke flags from countless chimneys.
Narrow, silent alleys awoke. Doors opened and shut. Single figures swinging dinner-pails, and groups of girls with baskets, hurried to and fro. The rumbling of carts was heard and shrill street cries.
Suddenly the molten ball swung clear of the purple haze and flooded the city with tremulous light. The vanes of the steeples flashed and blazed. The slanting roofs, wet with the night dew, glistened like silver. The budding trees, filling the great squares, flamed pink and yellow, their tender branches quivering in the rosy light.