from the wreck. He dully wondered why, until beneath the oilskins he found a waistband and a few sodden rags, all that was left of his evening clothes. Pockets were gone, and with them
"Five thousand dollars," he muttered in dazed, stupid fashion.
Just then a babbling chatter broke from the nearest cot. Brainard raised his head and saw a young man, no older than himself, sitting up and feebly swaying, his wits awry for the moment because of what he had suffered. The captain of the lost schooner wrung his hands and cried, while the tears were on his bruised face:
"No, no, I tell you, the Lucy B. was not insured. . . . I named her after you and she was a lucky vessel. . . . Cut away the rags o' that forestays'l, and we'll bend on somethin' that 'll hold. . . . We've got to heave her to, I tell you. . . . Five thousand dollars clean gone, all I've got and . . . If we can fetch Tarpon Inlet before we founder, we can get inside. . . . The Lucy B. gone to pieces. . . . You're a liar. . . . Why, I just bought out old man Holter's
