The Lost Warship
Robert Moore Williams
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Jap bombs rained down, there was a tremendous blast--and a weird thing happened to the Idaho....
The sun came up over a glassy, motionless sea. In the life-boat, Craig arranged the piece of sail to protect them from the sun. He hoisted it to the top of the improvised mast, spreading it so that it threw a shadow on the boat. There was no wind. There had been no wind for three days.
Craig stood up and swept his eyes around the circle of the sea. The horizon was unbroken. As he sat down he was aware that the girl, Margy Sharp, who had been sleeping at his feet, had awakened.
"See anything, pal?" she whispered. He shook his head.
Her pinched face seemed to become more pinched at his gesture. She sat up. Her eyes went involuntarily to the keg of water beside Craig. She licked her parched, cracked lips.
"How's for a drink, pal?" she asked.
"A quarter of a cup is all we get today," Craig said. "Do you want your share now or will you wait and take it later?"
"I'm terribly thirsty," the girl said. She glanced quickly back at the others in the boat. They were still sleeping.
"How about slipping me a whole cup?" she asked, her bold blue eyes fixed intently on Craig's face.
Craig looked at the sea.
"They're asleep," the girl said quickly. "They won't ever know."