She came hurriedly, and peered over the rail with a startled, frightened
expression. Then she screamed.
"Can you see any ropes lying on deck, Florrie?" called Denman. "If you
can, throw one over."
She disappeared for a moment, then came back, and cried out frantically:
"No, there is nothing--no ropes. What shall I do?"
"Go down and get the tablecloth," said Denman, as calmly as he could,
with his nose just out of water and a big, heavy, frightened man bearing
him down.
Florrie vanished, and soon reappeared with the tablecloth of the
morning's breakfast. It was a cloth of generous size, and she lowered it
over.
"Tie one corner to the rail, Florrie," said Denman, while he held the
irresponsible Sampson away from the still frail support. She obeyed him,
tying the knot that all women tie but which no sailor can name, and then
Denman led his man up to it.
Sampson clutched it with both hands, drew it taut, and supported his
weight on it. Fortunately the knot did not slip. Denman also held
himself up by it until he had recovered his breath, then cast about for
means of getting on board. He felt that the tablecloth would not bear
his weight and that of his water-soaked clothing, and temporarily gave
up the plan of climbing it.
Forward were the signal halyards; but they, too, were of small line,
and, even if doubled again and again until strong enough, he knew by
experience the wonderful strength of arm required in climbing out of
the water hand over hand. This thought also removed the tablecloth from
the problem; but suggested another by its association with the necessity
of feet in climbing with wet clothes.
He remembered that forward, just under the anchor davit, was a small,
fixed ladder, bolted into the bow of the boat for use in getting the
anchor. So, cautioning Sampson not to let go, he swam forward, with
Florrie's frightened face following above, and, reaching the ladder,
easily climbed on board. He was on the high forecastle deck, but the
girl had reached it before him.
"Billie," she exclaimed, as she approached him. "Oh, Billie--"
He caught her just as her face grew white and her figure limp, and
forgot Sampson for the moment. The kisses he planted on her lips and
cheek forestalled the fainting spell, and she roused herself.
"I thought you would drown, Billie," she said, weakly, with her face of
a deeper pink than he had seen. "Don't drown, Billie--don't do that
again. Don't leave me alone."
"I won't, Florrie," he answered, stoutly and smilingly. "I'm born to be
hanged, you know. I won't drown. Come on--I must get Sampson."
They descended--Denman picking up his pistol on the way--and found
Sampson quietly waiting at the end of the tablecloth. With his life
temporarily safe, his natural courage had come to him.
"I'm going to tow you forward to the anchor ladder, Sampson. You'll have
to climb it the best way you can; for there isn't a purchase on board
that will bear your weight. Hold tight now."
He untied Florrie's knot, and slowly dragged the big man forward,
experiencing a check at the break of the forecastle, where he had to
halt and piece out the tablecloth with a length of signal halyards, but
finally got Sampson to the ladder. Sampson had some trouble in mounting,
for his shackles would not permit one hand to reach up to a rung without
letting go with the other; but he finally accomplished the feat, and
floundered over the rail, where he sat on deck to recover himself.
Finally he scrambled to his feet.
"Mr. Denman," he said, "you've saved my life for me, and whatever I can
do for you, except"--his face took on a look of embarrassment--"except
going back on my mates, as I said, I will do, at any time of my life."
"That was what I might have suggested," answered Denman, calmly, "that
you aid me in controlling this crew until we reach Boston."
"I cannot, sir. There is prison for life for all of us if we are taken;
and this crowd will break out, sir--mark my words. You won't have charge
very long. But--in that case--I mean--I might be of service. I can
control them all, even Forsythe, when I am awake."
"Forsythe!" grinned Denman. "You can thank Forsythe for your round-up.
If he hadn't remained sober enough to attempt to break into Miss
Fleming's room while you were all dead drunk, I might not have knocked
him out, and might not have roused myself to tie you all hand and foot."
"Did he do that, sir?" asked Sampson, his rugged features darkening.
"He did; but I got there in time to knock him out."
"Well, sir," said Sampson, "I can promise you this much. I must be
locked up, of course--I realize that. But, if we again get charge, I
must be asleep part of the time, and so I will see to it that you
retain possession of your gun--and the lady, too, as I see she carries
one; also, sir, that you will have the run of the deck--on parole, of
course."
"That is kind of you," smiled Denman; "but I don't mean to let you take
charge. It is bread and water for you all until something comes along to
furnish me a crew. Come on, Sampson--to the forecastle."
Sampson preceded him down the steps, down the hatch, and to the
forecastle door, through which Denman admitted him; then relocked the
door and bunched the key with his others. Then he joined Florrie, where
she had waited amidships.
"Now, then, Florrie girl," he said, jubilantly, "you can have the use of
the deck, and go and come as you like. I'm going to turn in. You see, I
was awake all night."
"Are they secured safely, Billie?" she asked, tremulously.
"Got them all in the forecastle, in double irons, with plenty of
hard-tack and water. We needn't bother about them any more. Just keep
your eyes open for a sail, or smoke on the horizon; and if you see
anything, call me."
"I will," she answered; "and I'll have dinner ready at noon."
"That's good. A few hours' sleep will be enough, and then I'll try and
polish up what I once learned about wireless. And say, Florrie. Next
time you go below, look in the glass and see how nice you look."
She turned her back to him, and he went down. In five minutes he was
asleep. And, as he slipped off into unconsciousness, there came to his
mind the thought that one man in the forecastle was not manacled; and
when Florrie wakened him at noon the thought was still with him, but he
dismissed it. Jenkins was helpless for a while, unable to move or
speak, and need not be considered.