midnight
With one hand Helen Page dragged down the branch on which the sailorman stood , with the other she snatched him from his post of duty . With a joyous laugh that was a sob , she clutched the sailorman in both her hands and kissed the beseeching , worshipping smile . An hour later her car , on its way to Boston , passed through Fair Harbor at a rate of speed that caused her chauffeur to pray between his chattering teeth that the first policeman would save their lives by landing them in jail . At the wheel , her shoulders thrown forward , her eyes searching the dark places beyond the reach of the leaping head-lights Helen Page raced against time , against the minions of the law , against sudden death , to beat the midnight train out of Boston , to assure the man she loved of the one thing that could make his life worth living . And close against her heart , buttoned tight beneath her great-coat , the sailorman smiled in the darkness , his long watch over , his soul at peace , his duty well performed . When Philip Endicott was at Harvard , he wrote stories of undergraduate life suggested by things that had happened to himself and to men he knew . Under the title of `` Tales of the Yard '' they were collected in book form , and sold surprisingly well .