angry horizon a drift of smoke appeared, shortly resolving itself
into a steamer. She lay to in the offing, and through his glasses
Glenister saw that it was the Roanoke. As the hours passed and no
boat put off, he tried to hire a crew, but the longshoremen spat
wisely and shook their heads as they watched the surf.

"There's the devil of an undertow settin' along this beach," they
told him, "and the water's too cold to drownd in comfortable." So
he laid firm hands upon his impatience.

Every day meant many dollars to the watcher, and yet it seemed
that nature was resolute in thwarting him, for that night the wind
freshened and daylight saw the ship hugging the lee of Sledge
Island, miles to the westward, while the surf, white as boiling
milk, boomed and thundered against the shore.

Word had gone through the street that Bill Wheaton was aboard with
a writ, or a subpoena, or an alibi, or whatever was necessary to
put the "kibosh" on McNamara, so public excitement grew. McNamara
hoarded his gold in the Alaska Bank, and it was taken for granted
that there would lie the scene of the struggle. No one supposed
for an instant that the usurper would part with the treasure
peaceably.

On the third morning the ship lay abreast of the town again and a
life-boat was seen to make off from her, whereupon the idle
population streamed towards the beach.

"She'll make it to the surf all right, but then watch out."