I didn't think of home. I didn't think of my past sins. I just thought with every ounce of my strength that if I could keep swimming for a few seconds more I could be clear of that undertow. I made it.
All around me men were calling for help. I made out a life-boat a few yards away and hollered to them, and just then an oar floated by.
I never was so glad to see anything in my life. I rested on it and caught another. Two oars! Why, it was as good as a raft. I was safe—if only I could find McCaffrey in that black hell.
I yelled his name and heard a sputter behind me.
"For God's sake, save me——"
"Can't you swim?"
"No."
"Stay where you are; I'll get you."
It was Spick, one of the oilers—a big chap, weighing a good one-ninety.