The big hawser strained and groaned, chocks and bitts crooned their song of stress, the wind whistled its dirge, while out from the breakers the Whist hauled her tow.

To the wheel of the tug Baldwin glanced ahead and behind, pointed her nose for the breakwater, gave her four bells and the jingle, put his mouth to the tube, and answered, “Yes, Pete, that’s right—­’twas Bud went.  And now it’s up to you, son.  Keep steam on her, and if the hawser holds and nothing else happens, she oughter stagger home all right.”

Nothing more happened and the Whist staggered home.  The morning light saw her safe to the Navy Yard with the light-ship moored alongside.

Bowen stepped from the light-ship to the tug.  Up in the pilot-house he found Baldwin.  The sailor was staring through a window, staring out to sea.  Bowen waited.

Baldwin turned inboard at last.  “I s’pose you’re wonderin’ how we knew.  Well, ’twas Bud passed me the word, and more than that, ’twas Bud broke me out of as promisin’ a little game as ever a man sat into.  Chips?  Enough to fill my service cap afore me, and not all white chips either.  And he comes along and just the same as yanks me up by the collar an’ says, ‘You got to go!’ and I had to.  And of course where I go Pete goes.”

“And a game thing, Baldwin.”

“Game hell.  It’s our trade—­Pete’s and mine.  But it wasn’t Bud’s.  But he was bound to go.  And when he went under, when I woke up to it he was gone, I looked out.  The sea was still rolling up to the clouds.  I sticks my head out the window to cool it, and to myself I says:  If there was only somebody else in this watch so I could take five minutes off somewhere and lie down and cry.  That’s the way I felt about it.  Yes, sir, if it wasn’t for you fellows behind and good old Pete below, I believe I’d let everything go.  Yes, sir, government property or no, I believe I’d a let the old Whist roll up on the beach and been glad to roll up with her.  And Bud—­” Baldwin came suddenly to a full stop and stared out to sea.  After a time he turned and asked:  “Did you see him when he went?”

“I did.  And that time I grabbed for him and missed and he went by me, he half-turned and looked at me, and I thought he said, ‘I never meant it.’  Just that I heard, when the sea washed over him, and when he came up again he must’ve thought that I didn’t understand, and he waved one arm.  It was like he was saying ’Good-by!’—­the way he did it.  Yes, he was all right—­Harty.”

“You betcher he was all right.  An’ more than all right.  As for that, it’s a damn poor specimen’ that ain’t all right when it comes to a show-down.  I’ve known Bud—­I can’t remember when I didn’t know Bud Harty.  And, Bowen, he was a better man than you or me.  Bud always let you see the worst of himself, but you had to guess at the best of him.  Bud, he sure could hate a man—­but, son, he could like you a lot better than ever he hated you.”