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Various

"The Best Short Stories of 1921 and the Yearbook of the American Short Story"

A distant moaning sound ran through the
upper air, vague yet distinctly audible. The center of the typhoon was
headed in our direction.
"As we staggered along the quay, my thoughts worked rapidly. I saw the
plan now, and recognized the dangerous nature of the undertaking on
which we'd embarked. It was to be a game of bluff, in which we would
have to risk our lives if the other held his ground.
"I edged toward Lee Fu. 'Will you go on the water?' I asked in his ear.
"He nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on Wilbur ahead.
"'But it can't be done,' I told him. 'A boat won't live.'
"'There is always a definite alternative,' he replied abruptly.
"'Yes--that we sink.'
"'Exactly.'
"All at once, in a flash of enlightenment, the greatness of the occasion
came to me. By Jove! He had taken the matter in his own hands; he had
stepped in when the gods had failed. But he had observed the divine
proprieties; had seen that if he presumed to act for the gods he must
throw his own life, as well, into the balance. He must run every risk.
It was for them, after all, to make the final choice. He was only
forcing action on the gods.
"I gazed at him in wonder. He advanced stiffly against the storm,
walking like an automaton. Beneath the close pulled rim of a black
sou'wester his smooth oval countenance looked ridiculously vacant, like
the face of a placid moon.


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