The Last Cruise of the Spitfire Part 17

"You're right," cried Dibble. "Wonder if there is any one on board?"

"Can't we hail her?" I asked.

"We might try, although the wind is pretty strong."

Both of us cried at the same time, and then the mate joined in.

"Boat ahoy!"

For a moment there was no reply, and we repeated the cry.

And then came the faint answer:

"Help! Where are you? Help!"

It was a man's voice, and by its sound we could tell that he was well-nigh exhausted.

"What can we do for him?" I asked anxiously.

"We'll be on him in a moment," said Dibble. "Let's throw him a rope or two."

In an instant he had a stout rope ready. Seeing what he intended to do I also procured a rope.

During this time the mate went to the man at the wheel, and told him to steer a little to the starboard. This brought the schooner somewhat around, and gave us a chance to take in the man, should he be fortunate enough to grasp one or the other of the ropes.

"I'm afraid we'll lose him in the darkness," said Dibble.

"Let us do all we can," I said, thinking how I would feel if placed in a position similar to that occupied by the man on the wreck.

"Help! Help!" repeated the unfortunate, in lower tones.

"He's almost done for," said the old sailor, with a shake of his head.

"There he is!" I cried, as another flash of light came.

"Sure enough. Stand to catch the rope!"

"Stand to catch the rope!" I repeated.

"I will! Throw it to me!" came back the cry.

In an instant both of us threw our ropes. By an unfortunate twist Dibble's went spinning from his hands, and, before he could catch it, went over the side.

"My rope's gone!" he groaned. "Yours must do the work, boy, or the man will be lost!"

I made no reply. I had felt the rope in my hands growing tighter.

"I have the rope!" came the cry. "Pull in!"

"He's got it!" I repeated. "Help me land him."

Dibble readily complied; and slowly but surely we drew in on the rope.

"Hurry up!" called the man. "I can't hold on much longer!"

"You'll be all right in a minute!" I called back. "Don't let go."

Dibble took hold of the rope with me, and held it up so that the man might have no difficulty in climbing over the rail.

Presently the unfortunate individual came in sight. I could see that he was completely exhausted.

"Give me your hand," I said to him and leaned far over the side to reach it.

With one remaining effort he threw up his arm, at the same time letting the rope slip from his grasp.

I caught his hand and held on to it with all my power. The man's weight was a tremendous strain on my muscles, but fortunately they stood the test, and then I began to drag him over the rail.

It was no easy task. The schooner having lost part of her headway, tossed and pitched dreadfully, and once the water poured over me in a perfect deluge.

But I had made up my mind to save the man, and I did not give up. I braced myself against the rail, and then Dibble gave me his hand; and a moment later the unfortunate was safe upon the deck.

"Thank G.o.d, I'm saved!" he murmured, and then he sank back unconscious.

By this time Captain Hannock had come forward to see what had taken place.

"Humph! only another mouth to feed!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Who saved him? Did you, Dibble?"

"I tried to, but Foster was the one to do it, brave lad that he is!"

replied the old sailor.

"Foster seems to carry himself high!" sneered the captain. "Well, take him to the forecastle, some of you, and let him get over it. We'll carry him to New Bedford, providing he pays for his pa.s.sage."

I was utterly disgusted with Captain Hannock's brutal words, but came to the conclusion that they were due in great part to the liquor he had drunk. I helped Dibble carry the rescued man to the forecastle, and here the old sailor and myself did all in our power to bring him to his senses.

It was quite a job; but finally it was accomplished, and the man sat up.

"Where am I?" he asked, in a dazed manner.

"Safe on board the Spitfire," I replied.

"And the Dora?"

"The Dora?" asked Dibble.

"Yes; my boat."

"Gone to the bottom of the Sound," said the old sailor. "I saw her founder just as you sprang for the rope."

"You did? Well, let her go. She wasn't worth much. I'm glad I'm safe.