Quick as a report from a gun came snappy orders from the watchful officer of the deck, Midshipman Anderson.
“Quartermaster, break out the anchor watch on the double. Osborn, help me lower this dinghy; quick, man, quick.”
CHAPTER XIII
Oiler Collins Jumps Ship
“Lower your forward fall, lively! Now unhook. Jump in! Pile in, you anchor watch men; in you go, Jenson; shove off and get that catamaran.”
“Out oars, give way together,” snapped out Jenson who was in the stern of the dinghy to the four men at the oars. “Osborn, you stand up in the bow with a boat-hook. Give way hard, men, bend your backs. Stroke! Stroke! Stroke! Stroke!” called out Jenson.
“There he is, dead ahead, half-way to the shore,” cried out Ralph excitedly.
“Lift her, men, lift her up. Stroke! Stroke! Stroke! Harder! Harder!”
The dinghy was rapidly overhauling the catamaran. In the catamaran could be seen the figure of a man standing up, working furiously at his sculling oar. The bright full moon, low down in the sky and behind his back, cast his wavering shadow in the water in a long, undulating, snake-like movement. But though he had a good start there was no hope for him in this fierce chase, and when he was a hundred yards from the shore the dinghy was almost on top of him and would be up to him in a second. He gave one quick glance to the shore, and then with a despairing, agonizing cry of: “My God, my God,” he threw down his oar and leaped into the black water about him.
“Starboard your helm,” called out Ralph, as he stood in the bow of the dinghy, with the boat-hook in his two hands. A second later [he saw the man just ahead and on the port bow of the dinghy, swimming frantically.] He plunged the boat-hook down inside the collar of the swimmer’s shirt and then gave the boat-hook a quick turn. “I’ve got him,” he cried. “Now help get him aboard.” The man, completely vanquished, made no resistance, and was quickly hauled aboard.