Suddenly something flickered across the glass window, and he gasped out a broken laugh, thinking it a snake. Snakes would trouble him little, after battling with the Pirate Shark! But was it a snake? It stayed unaccountably still; then it began to jerk forward and back most strangely, switching against the glass before his eyes. He put out his hand and touched it—rough hemp! Then he saw that a piece of metal was fastened at the end, and was bumping against his legs. It was a rope.
"Good old Bob!" he thought, as a momentary wave of coherence restored his brain to itself for an instant. "I've got to fasten it—don't believe I can hold on very long!"
However, the trailing end of his own life line was still attached to his belt. Hauling it in, he managed to get the two lines knotted, then gave the four pulls to "haul up!" He perceived the line tighten immediately, when a terrible gasping for air seized him and shook him; he tore at his diving suit with his hands, a spasm of agony making him reckless whether he let in the water or not. But fortunately the rubber-cloth was stout.
His frantic efforts had exhausted what little oxygen was left to him. He knew faintly that the wreck had seemed to drop away from him, that he was swinging up through the water—and just as the water seemed to be growing lighter, everything went black before his eyes, there was a rush of stars, and he knew no more.
Up above on the landing, Bob was pulling away desperately, with fear in his heart. At one side lay the figure of Jerry, still in diving dress but with helmet removed. The old quartermaster lay very still and white, but Bob had no chance to work over him. When Mart's line had parted and that terrible shadow had appeared down below, Bob had almost given up. Then he had leaped into energy, for he knew that now Mart's life depended on him alone.
He had swiftly cut away Jerry's back-weight and attached it to a line, which he lowered, swinging it back and forth in the hope that Mart would see it. The under-water battle had lasted only for two or three minutes, although it had seemed an age to poor Mart, and now Bob was hauling up with all his energy. He had seen the dim shadow shoot off, leaving a great trail of blood, and he knew that Mart must be hard pressed for air; as he pulled, he prayed that the shark would not return until his friend was safe.
With a sob of relief, he caught the flicker of the copper helmet in the water, and finally got the limp form to the surface. Pulling Mart in was a hard matter, but it was finally accomplished, and Bob fell on the helmet and unscrewed it with trembling hands. Mart's bloody face and ghastly pallor struck him with cold fear, but he went to work at once to drive air into the contracted lungs, hoping against hope.
How long he worked over the unconscious figure he never knew. He shouted again and again for Ah Sing, and when at length the affrighted Celestial appeared at the top of the ladder, Bob sent him for some stimulant. Ah Sing vanished, and a cry of joy broke from Bob's lips, as he saw a faint color come into Mart's face and ebb out again. Mart was alive!
Bob labored furiously, and when Ah Sing showed up with a bottle of alcohol, he said nothing but rubbed Mart's face and neck with the fiery liquid. Presently he was rewarded by a twitch of Mart's eyelids, a little more color came into the faded cheeks, and then the gray eyes opened and looked up into his.
"Look out—he's coming!" whispered Mart, his hand going up and clutching Bob's arm.