Nelson hauled Bowen aboard. When he recovered his first word was, "God,
Nelson, that was Harty!"
"Harty, wass it? I don't know him, but he was one goot man."
The big hawser strained and groaned, chocks and bitts crooned their song
of stress, the wind whistled its dirge, while out from the breakers the
_Whist_ hauled her tow.
To the wheel of the tug Baldwin glanced ahead and behind, pointed her
nose for the breakwater, gave her four bells and the jingle, put his
mouth to the tube, and answered, "Yes, Pete, that's right--'twas Bud
went. And now it's up to you, son. Keep steam on her, and if the hawser
holds and nothing else happens, she oughter stagger home all right."
Nothing more happened and the _Whist_ staggered home. The morning light
saw her safe to the Navy Yard with the light-ship moored alongside.
Bowen stepped from the light-ship to the tug. Up in the pilot-house he
found Baldwin. The sailor was staring through a window, staring out to
sea. Bowen waited.
Baldwin turned inboard at last. "I s'pose you're wonderin' how we knew.
Well, 'twas Bud passed me the word, and more than that, 'twas Bud broke
me out of as promisin' a little game as ever a man sat into. Chips?
Enough to fill my service cap afore me, and not all white chips either.
And he comes along and just the same as yanks me up by the collar an'
says, 'You got to go!' and I had to.
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