People who had sprung or fallen overboard were drowning on each side of us, right in my sight, as we sailed along up the water-front.

But when I looked at father, there he was, just as I had always known him, hands in pockets, walking slowly up and down, now giving an order to the wheel--you see, he had to direct the _Dixie's_ course through all the shipping--now watching the passengers swarming over our bow and along our deck, now looking ahead to see his way through the ships at anchor.

Sometimes he did glance at the poor, drowning ones, but he was not concerned with them.
"Of course, there were numbers drowned, but by keeping his hands in his pockets and his head cool he saved hundreds of lives.

Not until the last person was off the steamboat--he sent men aboard to make sure--did he take off the press of sail.

And the steamboat sank at once." She ceased, and looked at me with shining eyes for approbation.
"It was splendid," I acknowledged.