Methodically every few moments he removed his eyeglasses and wiped
the lenses free of spray.
Suddenly, without warning, occurred one of those inexplicable lulls
that interpose often amid the wildest uproars. For the briefest
instant other sounds than the roar of the wind and surf were
permitted the multitude on the beach. They heard the grinding of
timbers from the stricken ships, and the draining away of waters.
And distinctly they heard the faint, far tinkle of the jangler
calling again for "full speed ahead."
Between two waves the SPRITE darted forward directly for the nearest
of the wrecks. Straight as an arrow's flight she held until from
the crowd went up a groan.
"She'll collide!" some one put it into words.
But at the latest moment the tug swerved, raced past, and turned on
a long diagonal across the end of the bar toward the piers.
Captain Marsh had chosen his moment with exactitude. To the utmost
he had taken advantage of the brief lull of jumbled seas after the
"three largest waves" had swept by. Yet in shallow water and with
the strong inshore set, even that lull was all too short. The
SPRITE was staggered by the buffets of the smaller breakers; her
speed was checked, her stern was dragged around.
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