All the time, as the early sun flooded in at the east windows and the City basked in the calm of a cloudless morning, it was hard to realize that at a distance of a few inches on the map, even in reality only a small fraction of the earth’s circumference, some of your fellow-townsmen were battling for their lives on a broken ship, and the front rushing down upon them.

6

“O.K., Jerry, change oil, lubricate, tires, battery. Give ’er the works!”

“O.K., Mr. Goslin. Off from San Francisco again, are you?”

“Sure thing. Starting Sunday, cover all north end of state—first stop, Colusa.”

“Fella was tellin’ me the drought’s getting pretty bad up there.”

“It sure is, and the luxury trade’s not so hot. But still they gotta buy flour—you know—the stuff they keep weevils in. I’m doin’ as good as I gotta right t’ expect.”

“The new tires look swell.”

“Are swell too. A guy that drives like I do, gotta have safe tires. Have ’er ready at two.”

7

It was hell on the Byzantion. The rudder-controls were jammed or smashed, and everything gone haywire, and she was taking them green. The First, best officer they had, had gone overboard, and Johnny the Greek lay white faced and groaning from a dislocated shoulder, and the cook was burned all over the face. The Old Man wasn’t much good, and most likely was hitting the bottle again. And the boats gone or smashed—but then you couldn’t have launched them anyway.

But they still kept steam up, and followed orders when there were any, and the radio was working. Sparks said the Eureka was coming full-steam. It made you laugh anyway, to think how full-steam in this gale would shake up the goddam first-class passengers; they’d be puking their guts.

So, weary and wet and bruised, they hung on minute by minute, waiting for the big ones to hit, and wondering whether she’d start breaking up.

8

Max Arnim turned off the ignition, slipped the clutch, and let the car roll to the gasoline pumps.

“Fill ’er up, Bob—ethyl.”

“Oh, hello, Max. I hear you’re having a week-end off from Reno—going below—taking Jen down to Frisco.”

“You sure hear a lot on this job.”

“Sure do. Sounds like a swell party.”

“She’s stayin’ with her sister.”

“Oh, sure, sure Jen’s a nice kid, I know. When you leaving Reno?”

“Tomorrow—after work.”

“Pretty late—be dark all the way.”

“Couldn’t get off earlier. Anyway I know old U.S. 40 like a book. We’ll pull in to the City around midnight.”

9

The J. M. bought a paper and stood at the street-corner, reading. All the Chief’s cautious language had been of no use, for the headline stood out:

SHIP IN TYPHOON