Jan waited for him outside. As he came almost abreast, the ship heaved
and the two men fell against each other, while a great splash of
sea-water drenched them. Again a roll and jump, and Goles would have
fallen had not Jan held him upright. Goles gave him no thanks, but he
said huskily: "I heard one of the sailors say she's a goner." With Jan
holding on to Goles, the two men were swaying and stumbling to the
boat's heavy rolling and heaving.

"I don't know about that," said Jan; "but she's in a bad way. And it's
going to be worse, I think."

"That's what the sailor said," muttered Goles.

"So if you want to shoot anybody you better wait till we're
safe--to-morrow maybe. And your wife--But watch out!"

The sea washed fairly over them both. With the wave went a broken rail
and part of the splintered house. Following the crashing of the wood and
glass came the frightened questions and the patter of excited people
running out of their rooms. The story-telling group from the barroom
came as one man. The glass of the window over their heads had been
showered on to their table. The bartender stopped only to empty his cash
register, stuff the money in his pocket, and get into a great coat; then
he came running out too. Bottles and glasses were breaking behind him as
he ran.

"Come," said Jan. Goles followed. Jan went up and looked into the
saloon. There she was, still waiting. "You stay here and I will bring
her out," said Jan to Goles--"and don't you open your mouth when you see
her."