“B’gosh!” exclaimed Mike, “’tis a missage all right, all right. Shure, b’ys, we’ll be afther a rescuin’ av him.”
“Derned if we won’t!” cried Pem. “Nobody can’t say as any Yankee whaleman ever lef’ a shipwracked mate fer to die ’slong’s he could help it. Dern them Germans’ hides! Wisht I could git at ’em! Here you, Mike, call all han’s! I’m a-goin’ fer to ask fer volunteers. An’ git the boat ready fer the v’yge. Stow away ’nough grub an’ water fer a week an’ med’cines an’ grog, an’ clo’s an’ blankets. Like as not thet there feller ain’t got none.”
Then, as Mike stumped off to carry out his orders, Pem bustled about, giving directions, leaving orders as to work to be done while the boat was away, and between times, cursing the Germans with quaint oaths.
“Reckon like as not he’s died long ago,” he muttered half to himself. “No knowin’ when he writ thet letter.”
“But it says December,” Tom reminded him. “And this is only the second week.”
“Yep, I knows it,” replied the whaleman. “But he says he ain’t no ways sure an he don’ say what December. Like as not ’twas las’ year or year afore. ’Spect we’ll have all our trouble fer nothin’.”
Then, addressing the men who had gathered about, Cap’n Pem told the story of the boys’ find in a few terse words and called for volunteers to make the trip. Every hand went up instantly.
“Bile me ef I didn’t know ’twould be thet way!” cried the mate. “Might as well saved myself the trouble. Got to pick ye out, anyway!”
Hurriedly running his eyes over the men, he picked four of the strongest and best, and all men from New Bedford. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he turned to the one-eyed man, Ned.
“Here, you!” he snapped out. “You’ve been a sojer. Know anythin’ ’bout doctorin’?”