Ken felt panic seize him by the throat. If Sandy was lying unconscious in the cabin, too weak to get up—if he had been washed overboard—!
Ken let go the pump handle and turned toward the rear of the cabin.
“Sandy! Sandy!” he called desperately into the wind.
And in that moment Sandy appeared at the corner of the cabin. With him was Cal, looking pale and obviously terror-stricken.
Sandy’s haggard face wore a grim smile. “New recruit!” he shouted. He shoved Cal forward, ordered him with a gesture to seize the pump handle.
Then Sandy leaned close to Ken’s ear. “Go inside for a rest. We’ll take turns working with him.”
Ken was still staring, stupefied. “But—”
“Don’t worry,” Sandy told him. “He knows we’ll go down if he doesn’t lend a hand. He’s scared stiff.”
He looked at Cal, who seemed to be gazing at the pump as if he’d never seen it before.
“Work!” Sandy yelled. “You—”