CHAPTER X
SALVAGE
Dickie Lang was nonplussed. Her best bet was thrown into the discard. Her pride and independence had been at stake. For her most valued possessions, she had risked her all, and "stood pat" on the turn-up at the devil-island. Her cards were all on the table. Now she had lost. Leaning against the sagging rail she watched the Curlew draw alongside the float. Her slender fingers gripped the hand-rail and the sharp splinters bit into her hands. But what was that to the pain which gnawed at her heart? She hadn't made good. The taste of failure was a new and strange sensation. She had made her fight, done her best. But it wasn't good enough. But why was it necessary to take the little Petrel? Was Diablo to beat her as it had beaten others? No, she must buck up. She was Bill Lang's daughter.
"It's all in the game," she exclaimed to Gregory. "As I told you, the sea plays no favorites."
Before the young man could answer, she had turned from him to meet the men who were climbing from the incoming vessel.
"Hello, boys. Tough luck. But we can't help it.
Tell me what happened. Make it short. I've got a lot to do."
The fishermen grouped themselves about her as the quivering figure of a little Mexican lunged through the circle and began to speak:
"Dios, Señorita, it was very bad," he quavered. "We were lying close to shore. The fog was everywhere. We could not see. And the anchor, it would not hold. I was at the chain as you say I must when I hear a boat coming. Jesus de mi alma, but she is coming fast. I can not leave as we are drifting and I say to Pedro that he make a noise with the whistle. But he does not get a chance. As he jumped for the engine-house a big boat she come right out of the fog and before we can move, she smash us all to hell. I fall into the water with Pedro and loose the dory. For a time we drift. Then we are picked up by Señor Jones."