"Right, my lad! And your name?"
"Jack Groates."
"Good at an oar?"
"Yes, sir."
"You know what it's for? A work of danger."
"Yes, sir, a barque drifting on to the rocks."
"She's disabled, and she'll be on them in less than an hour. If she doesn't break up with the first crash, we may get off the crew. But it will be a ticklish job. Ready?"
Jack Groates nodded.
"Then the sooner the better. Any more volunteers?" Mr. Gilbert looked towards young Mokes. "Are you good at rowing in rough weather?"
Ben Mokes knew himself to be probably as good as Jack Groates, but he said nothing, and a shrill voice sounded in his rear,—