Storms and their perils
were all in the day's work, and he faced their possible catastrophes
without a tremor. It would have been hard to find anywhere along the
Massachusetts coast a braver man than Jack Nickerson. Not only was he
ready to lead a crew of rescuers to succor the perishing, fearlessly
directing the surfboat in its plunge through a seething tide, but many
a time he had dashed bodily into the breakers, despite the hazard of a
powerful undertow, and dragged some drowning creature to a place of
safety. The fame of his many deeds of heroism had spread from one end
of the Cape to the other, and as he was native-born the community never
tired of relating his feats to any sojourner who strayed into the
locality.
Yet courageous as was Jack Nickerson, there was one thing he was afraid
of and that was a woman. Not that he trembled in the presence of all
women--no, indeed! He had brought far too many of them to land for
that. Women as a class did not appall him in the least. He had seen
them in the agony of terror, in the throes of despair, and undismayed
had offered them sympathy and cheer.
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