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By the way, how many men had you with you?" "There were eighteen of us altogether," replied Douglas. The skipper made a brief note on the paper before him and then remarked softly, "H'm, it is a pity that they were all drowned. I should have much liked to have saved a few more of them."
"I think not," said the skipper. "We have not the time to spare for tentative measures; and although, as you truly say, the rigging has badly stretched, I think it has scarcely stretched sufficiently seriously to imperil the spars.
The skipper, biting his lips with fury, turned from one to the other, and then, with a big oath, walked forward. Before he could reach the fo'c'sle Bill and Ted dived down before him, and, by the time he had descended, sat on their chests side by side confronting him.
"I'll turn in for a couple of hours," said the skipper, going towards his berth. "Lord! I'd give something to see old Berrow's face as his chaps come up the side." "P'raps they won't git as far as that," remarked the mate. "Oh, yes they will," said the skipper. "Dibbs is going to see to that. I don't want any chance of the race being scratched. Turn me out in a couple of hours."
No suspicion of treachery occurred to any of the party, although it became obvious that the skipper had grown faint-hearted. He did not come on the next night to the appointed place but he sent two nephews, boatmen like himself, whom he described as dare-devils.
He could not see his companions. A yell. "Lewis, my son, I'll come over." But Tom was held back; the smack was brought up all shaking. First the skipper caught a rope. Good, noble old man! He was half senseless when they hauled him on board. Then Lewis heard, as in a torpid reverie, a great voice, "Lay hold, Lewis, and I will come if you're bothered." What was he doing?
Of putting yourself in your present position, among other things." "You mean in the position of your skipper? I may say, that if I haven't repented, it isn't your fault. But, really, I've been so busy trying to make myself useful to the party in more ways than one, that I've had no time for repentance." "Oh, you have made yourself useful," she had the grace to admit.
A small, sinewy figure, half doubled up, with his chin resting on his rough palms, Skipper Evans sat on a lower projection of the rock just beneath him, in an attentive attitude, as at the feet of Gatnaliel.
Captain Jack soon had his calculation made. Then, with a quiet smile, he remarked: "I guess you'd better get below, Eph, for your part. I'll take the wheel, now, and Mr. Pollard will attend to the submerging mechanisms." Eph laughed joyously as he darted below. He had a part assigned to him that was bound to be enjoyable. "Mr. Pollard!" called down the young skipper, a few moments later.
"Of course, it's the exact description of the man that assaulted him. Providential he called it." "That's the worst of having a fool for a mate," said the skipper, bitterly. "What business was it of his, I should like to know? What's it got to do with him whether I turn up or not? What does he want to interfere for?"
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