“Say, uncle,” said Billy, “seems a long time since you and I came aboard at Portsmouth, doesn’t it? You can tell the folks I’m having the time of my life; but just find out, will you, whether Roger has remembered the calf.”
Mr. Jackson promised. Bill watched the train roll out of the station, and then found his way back to the wharf where Bob Brackett was waiting for him, and they both returned to the ship just in time for the afternoon swim.
The weather had cleared by three o’clock, the sun was shining brightly, and all together the conditions were just right for a good dip, although there was more motion in the water than usual, even inside the harbor. Jack Perkins was in charge of the swimming party, and was particularly interested in teaching Billy Brown, who seemed to have great difficulty in getting over a natural aversion for the water. Brown knew the stroke well enough, but would tighten up from lack of confidence, and Jack was trying hard to teach him to swim in a quiet and leisurely way instead of working in spasms.
They were all swimming off the ship’s side to leeward, as the Captain and mate were preparing to row ashore, and Jack suddenly remembered a letter which he had forgotten to give to the yeoman to mail.
“Captain,” he called from the water, “are you going near the post office?” and, as the Captain nodded, he said, “I forgot to give the yeoman a letter I wrote home,—would you mind mailing it for me, sir?”
At the Captain’s cordial assent, Jack scrambled up the side-ladder and disappeared down the berth deck companionway.
Meantime, Brown had been swimming pretty well—for him—and struck out from the ship’s side, followed by Chippie Smith, who knew Billy’s peculiarities as a swimmer and was keeping a friendly eye on him. But the tide happened to be bearing away from the vessel, and suddenly Chippie noticed that Billy was sputtering and struggling ahead of him in a kind of panic.
“It’s all right, Bill—take your time and swim back here to me,” called out Smith in a reassuring tone.
Little Billy felt the force of the current against him, and finally scrambled through about six feet of water to where Smith was; but, having completely lost his presence of mind, frantically grabbed him round the neck from behind and began weighing him down into the water. One of the boys near the ship noticed what was going on and gave a loud call for help which reached Dick’s ears while he was writing a letter home on the day bunk. He had no sooner heard the cry than he bounded to the ship’s side and took in the situation at a glance. [Without thinking of the side-ladder, he dove off the rail], clothes and all, and came up again about four feet from where the two boys were struggling. Approaching close to Chippie, he said quietly:
“Knock the back of your head against his nose, Chip; that will break his hold, and then I’ll pick him up.”