“Those tackles,” resumed John, “help us straighten that second line till it is above the breakers, and—now watch ’em—here comes the life-car, a sort of box, you see, that we suspend from the upper rope, and at the same time it is hitched to the lower or endless line. Now all we have got to do is to pull on that endless line, and the life-car, sliding along the upper rope, will spin right out to the vessel, and—here she goes!”
The life-car was moving along the upper line bound for the wreck. One or two halts occurred on the way, but the venture was ultimately successful, and Charlie saw the life-car as the crew of the wreck eagerly seized it.
“She’s coming back!” he cried.
Captain Peters shouted, “Here she comes, my hearties! Pull away on the whip!”
This was a title for the endless line.
“Suthin’ in that life-car!” sang out one of the men.
“Not so very much, I guess,” said another. “She runs sort of light.”
How the breakers tried to reach the car! Several times the sea threw itself spitefully, violently upward. One breaker seemed to make a spring for the car, wetting it with a cloud of spray.
“A real vixen, aint it?” said John. “It can’t harm any thing. But who is that in the car? A small cargo.”
It was not a large one certainly. One man doubted if any thing were there.