CHAPTER XIV
Marooned
ON NAUSET BEACH, Alan and Barcus sprawled on the sands, some distance back from the water, and listened to the thumping of their overtaxed hearts, and panted. Now and again one would lift his head and stare out over the waters at a little line of reddish flames: all that remained to witness to the fact that, an hour since, these two had been in command of as trim and seaworthy a little schooner as ever ventured the trip from Portland to New York. Farther out again a green eye stared unblinking over the water: the starboard light of the becalmed fishing schooner whose crew had caused the disaster.
"Barcus," said Alan, "what I can't understand is why those damned thugs out there thought we'd be asses enough to stay aboard the Seaventure and get burned up."
The other replied: "Did they?"
"Looks that way. If they didn't, why were we permitted to swim ashore? There was nothing to prevent their rowing round to cut us off."
"Maybe they did, and missed us, Mr. Law-and-
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