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? ? ? ? 'But I am still here, all here,' hand scrawled, more slowly and painfully than ever.

? ? ? ? The pencil dropped, and we had to replace it in the hand.

? ? ? ? 'When there is no pain I have perfect peace and quiet. I have never thought so clearly. I can ponder life and death like a Hindu sage.'

? ? ? ? 'And immortality?' Maud queried loudly in the ear.

? ? ? ? Three times the hand essayed to write, but fumbled hopelessly. The pencil fell. In vain we tried to replace it. The fingers could not close on it. Then Maud pressed and held the fingers, about the pencil with her own hand, and the hand wrote, in large letters, and so slowly that the minutes ticked off to each letter:

? ? ? ? 'B-O-S-H.'

? ? ? ? It was Wolf Larsen's last word,- 'bosh,'- skeptical and invincible to the end. The arm and hand relaxed. The trunk of the body moved slightly. Then there was no movement. Maud released the hand. The fingers spread, falling apart of their own weight, and the pencil rolled away.


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