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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Brave girl!" he murmured as he wrapped Vincent in the coverings and passed him on to the skipper. "And now," he said, "the time has come to think of other things. I believe the waves have sufficiently subsided to enable us to dare it." He fumbled once more at the raft, at last to bring up a long, post-shaped affair.
Only one thing he could be sure of; his throbbing brain told it to him over and over: Alfred Brightwood, his friend, was gone gone forever. The sea had swallowed him up. When Curlie Carson had fastened the mysterious post-shaped affair to the springs of his berth, he fought his way against wind, waves and darkness back to the radiophone cabin.
You never can tell what will happen next and if worst comes to worst it's our only chance." Fighting his way back to his cabin, he returned presently with the post-shaped affair which he had lashed to the springs of his berth. This he now lashed to the stout slats of wood and crossbars of metal on the raft. When he had finished it appeared to be part of the raft.
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