“Makes me think o' the time Ryerson's house burned--just such a day as this. Three or four of us got there early and pitched in to help the firemen.” He had to shout to make himself heard. “I was up on the ladder, next under the nozzleman, holding up the slack of the hose. Well, sir, do you know the water kept dribbling down from the nozzle around my fingers until they were just about froze stiff. Finally, they let go--I couldn't help it, my fingers just straightened out. Then the slack of the hose fell and jerked the nozzle right out of the nozzleman's hands. Well, sir, I didn't hardly know what I was doing, it come so quick; but when that nozzle was tumbling down by me, and the stream swinging all around, I made a grab for it and caught it by the handles. And there I stood, holding on for all there was in me, and the crowd yelling. All to once it struck me the nozzleman was yelling too, and I looked up, and there I was squirting a four-inch stream up under his rubber coat, and he was hanging on to the ladder for life. Getting colder, ain't it?” Buckingham, with lips bluer than ever, made no reply; he looked down at his hands. Peabody's eyes roved shoreward. The lines in his face deepened as he looked; for he saw that the _Dean_ was making no headway. Half an hour later Badeau beckoned him aft. When he returned he took Buckingham by the shoulder, and shook him a little. “Here, Duke, what you thinking of! Brace up! Hunch says we'll throw off the deck load. He can't manage her at all this way. Come along--it's just what you need.” Through the afternoon, through the night, the storm sported with the _Dean_. It swept down from the north and forced her nearer and nearer to the breakers on Point Sable; it veered to the northeast, and blew her, with a scurry of black water, out past the point and on--on, as if to hurl her on the Wisconsin shore; it brought snow and sleet to blind the tireless wheelman, whose hands never left the spokes; it ripped the sails and set the shreds to flapping derisively; and still Badeau kept the wheel, and still his crew held their places forward. There was no talking now. There were no more yams of sea or shore; the two men up forward were holding grimly to life, with fingers too stiffened to grip firmly--with spirits that shivered and threatened to let go. [Illustration: 0009] Toward dawn Peabody groped aft. “I dunno what to do about Duke, Hunch.” “Hammer 'im.” “That don't help much. See any signs of it's letting up?” Badeau shook his head. “Do you know where we are?” “Must be pretty near the middle of the lake. I'm going to try to work back. Stand by to come about.” For the twentieth time that night the _Bean_, under the jib and the ruins of a foresail, pointed northeast. At Hunch's command, Peabody climbed half-way up the shrouds and clung there. The dark began to fade, the snow-flurries ceased. “Ho there! Hunch!--Ho there!” “Ho-o!”