“I stood by the rail, of course, and had told off the men I could trust, puttin’ ’em in two lines to let ’em through one at a time, women first, then the old men, and so on—­same old story; you’ve seen it, no doubt—­and had got four boats overboard and filled —­the sea was pretty calm—­and three of ’em away and out of range of fallin’ pieces if she did take a notion to let go suddenly, when the dog sprang out of the door at the top of the stairs leading down to the main deck, barkin’ like mad, runnin’ up to the captain, who stood just behind me, pullin’ at his trousers, and runnin’ back again.  Then a yell came from the boat below that one of the old women was missing:  it was her sister.  One half-crazy man said she’d jumped overboard—­he was crowdin’ up to the rail and didn’t want to stop for anything—­and another said she had gone off in the first boat, which I knew was a lie.

“‘Have you sent them both down?’ asked Captain Bogart.

“‘No, sir; only one,’ I said—­and I hadn’t.

“Just then a steward stepped up with a bundle of clothing in his hand.

“’I tried to get her out, but she’d locked herself in the stateroom, sir.  It was all afire when I come up.’

“It took about two seconds for Captain Bogart to jump clear of the crowd, run half the length of the deck and plunge through the door leadin’ to the main deck, the dog boundin’ after him.

“I’ve been through a good many anxious minutes in my life, but those were the worst I’d had up to date.  He and I had been pretty close ever since I went to sea.  He’s ten years older than I am, but he gave me my first chance.  Yes; that kind of thing takes the heart out of you, and they were both in it.  Hadn’t been for the dog we wouldn’t have missed her, maybe, although the captain was keeping tally of the passengers and crew.

“Three minutes, they said it was—­more like three hours to me—­I held the crowd back, wondering how long I ought to wait if he didn’t come up, knowing my duty was to stay where I was, when the dog sprang out of the door, half his hair singed off him, barkin’ and jumpin’ as if he had been let out for a romp; and then came the captain staggerin’ along, his face scorched, his coat half burned off him, the woman in his arms in a dead faint and pretty nigh smothered.  The old fool had locked herself in her stateroom—­he had to break down the door to get at her—­cryin’ she’d rather die there than be separated from her sister.

“We made room for the two—­the half-crazy man fallin’ back—­and the captain lowered her himself into the boat alongside her sister, and then he sent me down the ladder behind her to catch the others when they came down and see that everything was ready to cast off.

“I could see the captain now from my position in the boat, up against the sky—­he was the last man on the ship—­holding the dog close to him.  Once I thought he was going to bring him down in his arms, he held him so tight.