The Sea Wolf

Each time he performed the journey with greater swagger, but he never brought more than a few dollars at a time. Johnson’s breath, suddenly expelled, shot from his mouth and as suddenly checked, with the forced, audible expiration of a man wielding an axe. Wolf Larsen was steering, his eyes glistening and snapping as they dwelt upon and leaped from detail to detail of the chase. At last it showed, small and black, on the horizon, fully fifteen miles away.