he had left the shore. He was responsible to others once more.
The day being Sunday, the docks were quiet; the bridges over the river bore an unhurried, discreet traffic and less than the weekday haze of smoke hung in the sunny air. Dave always had resented the enforced dullness of the self-conscious goodness of Sunday. He did not want to feel particularly "good" according to a calendar. The smugness of Sunday seemed never so obnoxious as now. Even yet he had no idea how to speak to Alice.
When at last he had her at the telephone, he found his task considerably lessened by the fact that Alice had learned that he was safe and Fidelia also was safe and that they had been picked up together. The tug had imparted this information to the watch at the lighthouse on the government pier who had telephoned it ashore before the tug turned into the harbor.
Alice asked him: "You found Fidelia right away?"
"Right away," he told her and added: "Then we saw your fire."
He told her: "Mrs. Fansler is here."
"Down there?" said Alice.
Dave explained. "She heard from the coast station that the tug was headed in; she came right down."
He felt cheap after he had told Alice this. He related it because he was uncomfortable. He had the right to let her know that Mrs. Fansler was now with Fidelia but he had no right to suggest that Mrs. Fansler had done something which Alice also might have done. So he said hastily: "You sent the tug, Alice! We'd be half way to Michigan, if it wasn't for you!"
