“It wasn’t,” reiterated Peterson. “It was Willy’s fault—or mine.”
“In either case it’s likely to be equally serious for him. We can’t leave the poor devil helpless, that way.”
“Mr. Harry,” began Peterson again, “he’s only a Chinaman.”
“Take shame to yourself for that, Peterson,” said I. “He’s a part of the boat’s company—a good cook—yes, but more than a good cook——”
“Well, why didn’t he come up with the rest of us?”
“Because he was at his place of duty, below, until ordered up,” said I.
Peterson pondered for a moment. “That’s right,” said he at length; “I’ll go out with you.”
I felt Helena’s hand on my arm. “It’s awful out there,” said she. But I only turned to look at her in the half-darkness and shook off her hand.
“You can’t launch the big boat,” said Peterson. “You’d only swamp her, if you tried.”
“That may be,” said I, “but the real thing is to try.”