They listened. Swish-swash sounded the water, creeping about the slimy timbers.
"He should have come to the surface," said Glennon. "If he hadn’t been stunned, he would have risen at once. It’s likely he was able to swim. Most boys of his age are."
"If he didn’t come up——"
"That settles it!"
"What can we do?"
"Nothing."
On their knees beside that opening they looked at each other. Scudder’s weak face was very pale, and his trembling fingers fumbled at his chin.
"It’s a bad piece of business," he said huskily.
"Decidedly so," admitted Glennon.
"We’re likely to be blamed for it."