How the jackies did work! The great spheres came up dripping from the salt sea, and in much quicker time than they had been planted.
“We have broken all records now for sure. Three minutes flat! Signal the ship,” ordered the officer in command.
Dan wig-wagged the time, and the boats started away with the mines hanging over the sides, the jackies singing as they pulled lustily for home.
All at once there was a loud splash from whaleboat number two, the boat lurched heavily, the weight of the mine on the opposite side pulling it over.
Hickey, who was standing up watching the ship for signals, went overboard head first. The mine on the opposite side, slipping its fastenings, had gone to the bottom in three fathoms of water.
But the red head of Sam Hickey appeared above the surface of the water almost at once. He struck out for the boat, blowing the water from mouth and nose, while his companions shouted encouraging words to him.
Several made ready to go overboard to the lad’s rescue, but as soon as he was able to free his mouth and nose of water he called to them not to do so. Despite the severe effort of swimming against a strong tide, Hickey finally made the boat, though well-nigh exhausted when at last he stretched up his hands, grasping the gunwale of the whaleboat. The jackies hauled him in, joking over his misfortune.
“Didn’t soak the color out of your hair, did it, red-head?”
“No; all fast colors, warranted not to run,” retorted Sam quickly.
In the meantime, Dan Davis was standing up in the little wherry making efforts to attract the attention of the battleship. At last he succeeded in doing so.