"How exciting," exclaimed Barbara Harding. "Of course it's
not a real shipwreck, but maybe it's the next thing to it. The
poor souls may have been drifting about here in the center of
the Pacific without food or water for goodness knows how
many weeks, and now just think how they must be lifting
their voices in thanks to God for his infinite mercy in guiding
us to them."
"If they've been drifting for any considerable number of
weeks without food or water," hazarded Billy Mallory, "about
the only things they'll need'll be what we didn't have the
foresight to bring along--an undertaker and a preacher."
"Don't be horrid, Billy," returned Miss Harding. "You
know perfectly well that I didn't mean weeks--I meant days;
and anyway they'll be grateful to us for what we can do for
them. I can scarcely wait to hear their story."
Billy Mallory was inspecting the stranger through Mr.
Harding's glass. Suddenly he gave an exclamation of dismay.
"By George!" he cried. "It is serious after all. That ship's
afire. Look, Mr. Harding," and he passed the glass over to his
host.
And sure enough, as the owner of the Lotus found the
brigantine again in the center of his lens he saw a thin column
of black smoke rising amidships; but what he did not see was
Mr.
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