His body sagged slightly. The effort of speech, against the wind and on top of his weariness, had been too much.
Ken tried to smile, and could feel the caking of salt on his cheeks crack when his muscles moved.
“Sure,” he shouted. “Something’s bound to happen. Go inside and rest a minute.”
Sandy looked questioningly at the pump.
“I’ll keep her going,” Ken assured him.
Sandy nodded. Then his figure disappeared around the corner of the cabin.
Ken made himself keep an even pace. His impulse was to drive his muscles with every bit of strength he could muster—to quicken the rate of the strokes. But he knew he couldn’t maintain a faster speed for more than a moment, and that the effort would leave him completely exhausted.
Back and forth ... back and forth.... The rhythm never broke except when a big wave came over the bulwarks and Ken had to put all his energies into hanging onto the handle to prevent himself from being swept off his feet.
Back and forth ... back and forth....
Suddenly he was aware that Sandy had been gone a long time.