Peggy Simms watched her father with worried eyes. The curious, tarnished look of his tanned skin grew until the flesh seemed continually dry and of an earthy color; his lips peeled, and more than once he shook as if with a chill. On the eleventh day out, Rainey went below in the middle of the afternoon for his sea-boots. The gale had suddenly strengthened and, under reefs, the _Karluk_ heeled far over until the hissing seas flooded the scuppers and creamed even with the lee rail. In the main cabin he found Simms seated in a chair with his daughter leaning over him, speaking to her in a harsh, complaining voice. "No, you can't do a thing for me," he was saying. "It's this sciatica. I've got to get Carlsen." As Rainey passed through to his own little stateroom neither of them noticed him, but he saw that the captain was shivering, his hands picking almost convulsively at the table-cloth. "Where's Carlsen, curse him!" Rainey heard through his cabin partition. "Tell him I can't stand this any longer. He's got to help me. Got to. _Got to._" As Rainey appeared, walking heavily in his boots, the girl looked up. Her father was slumped in his chair, his face buried on his folded arms. The girl glanced at him doubtfully, apparently uncertain whether to go herself to find Carlsen or stay with her father. "Anything I can do, Miss Simms? Your father seems quite ill." The hesitation of the girl even to speak to him was very plain to Rainey. Suddenly she threw up her chin. "Kindly find Doctor Carlsen," she ordered, rather than requested. "Ask him to come as soon as he can. I--" She turned uncertainly to her father. "Can I help you to get him into the cabin?" asked Rainey. She thanked him with lips, not eyes, and he assisted her to shift the almost helpless man into his room and bunk. He was like a stuffed sack between them, save that his body twitched. While Rainey took most of the weight, he marveled at the strength of the slender girl and the way in which she applied it. Simms seemed to have fainted, to be on the verge of unconsciousness or even utter collapse. Rainey felt his wrist, and the pulse was almost imperceptible. "I'll get the doctor immediately," he said. She nodded at him, chafing her father's hands, her own face pale, and a look of anxious fear in her eyes. "Mighty funny sort of sciatica," Rainey told himself as he hurried forward. He knew where Carlsen was, in the hunters' cozy quarters, playing poker. From the chips in front of him he had been winning heavily. "The skipper's ill," said Rainey. "No pulse. Almost unconscious." Carlsen raised his eyebrows. "Didn't know you were a physician," he said. "Just one of his spells. I'll finish this hand. Too good to lay down. The skipper can wait for once." The hunters grinned as Carlsen took his time to draw his cards, make his bets and eventually win the pot on three queens.