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Updated: June 19, 2025
For of all the company on board the Doraine, there was but one whom "Soapy" knew, but one who called him by name and shared tobacco with him, and that one was William Spinney, the man who was taking him back to a place where mercy would not be shown.
She was adrift, helplessly adrift. Of what avail the wheel and a patched-up rudder to the mass that lay inert, motionless on the smiling sea? Every one on board realized, with sinking heart, that the Doraine was to go on drifting, drifting no man knew whither, until she crossed the path of a friendly stranger out there in the mighty waste.
A noisy, determined engine, fashioned by mechanics out of material taken from the engine and boiler room of the Doraine provides the motive power for the saws and the means to produce ponderous, far-reaching blasts on the transferred "fog-horn."
"Do you really think you have the right to name Mrs. Cruise's baby?" she inquired coolly. He managed a wry, deprecatory smile. "Everybody seems to like the name, Miss Clinton. The more I think of it myself, the better it sounds. I tried it out last night in all sorts of combinations. It fits nicely into almost any family tree even Nicklestick's. Just say it to yourself. Doraine Nicklestick.
They knew that water was coming into the hold; they knew that there were but four lifeboats and seven hundred men and women; they knew that the Doraine was going down in a very few hours; they knew that the Captain had given up all hope of rescue. Nothing could "turn up" now but death. Madame Obosky had taken a great fancy to Algernon Adonis Percival, and for a most peculiar reason.
An exploring party had visited it shortly after the wreck of the Doraine, but since then no one had set foot upon its shores. Its steep slopes, densely wooded, viewed from afar, suggested a mountain top sticking up out of the sea. By boat, skirting the coast, it was a good ten miles distant from the town. Three men were seized that night and put through a rigid examination.
Smith and Lady Doraine and the rest said it was too cold, and went in again; but the moon was pretty, so I stayed alone, and presently Lord Valmond came out, and stood beside me. There is such a nice view, you remember, from there, and I didn't a bit want to talk.
A child was coming to the pathetic little widow of Cruise, the radio-man. Two messengers had gone down to the landing to wait for the report to be shouted from the afterdeck of the Doraine, Soapy Shay and Buck Chizler, the jockey. Now they were returning, and it was nearing midnight.
This occurred about the middle of their first week on the island when practically every able-bodied man from the Doraine was at work cutting a way through the forest or in constructing the dock at the water's edge.
One name is there, however, chipped in a great black slab from the face of Split Mountain, that will never be forgotten as long as Trigger Island exists: it is that of Captain Weatherby Trigger. The master of the Doraine died aboard-ship in the second winter. After his death the ship was abandoned. Mr. Codge and the half-dozen old mariners who had made their home in the dismal hulk came ashore.
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