'Elp yourself. All the chairs is yours if you'll unpile
'em."
The young man battled his way down the deck and soon found himself in
the well-protected corner. A half-dozen unoccupied chairs were
cluttered about, having been abandoned by persons who over-estimated
their hardiness. One of the stewards was engaged in stacking them up
and making them fast.
Miss Guile's chair and that of Mrs. Gaston were staunchly fastened
down and their rugs were in place. R. Schmidt experienced an
exquisite sensation of pleasure. Here was a perfect exemplification
of that much-abused thing known as circumstantial evidence. She
contemplated coming on deck. So he had his chair put in place, called
for his rug, shrugged his chin down into the collar of his thick
ulster, and sat down to wait.
CHAPTER X
AN HOUR ON DECK
She literally was blown into his presence. He sprang to his feet to
check her swift approach before she could be dashed against the wall
or upon the heap of chairs in the corner. The deep roll of the vessel
had ended so suddenly that she was thrown off her balance, at best
precariously maintained in the hurricane that swept her along the
deck.
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