Captain Wold,
U.S.C.G. Chinook. Have taken badly injured man from Schooner, Vivian Gill. Leg amputation necessary. Radio position.McNulty, Crayton.
Pritt read the message and licked his lips, suddenly grown dry. “Are you taking him inside the twelve mile limit, Captain?” he inquired.
“Certainly, sir! God was with us in getting him aboard. We could never transfer him again—and be lucky.”
“We might!” Pritt’s voice was hoarse. “If we’re caught inside the twelve mile limit—— God, Captain, and you’re going right into the cove where the Chinook’s anchored. It means—ship and cargo.”
“He can’t be transferred again at sea,” McNulty answered grimly.
“Try it!”
“We can’t trifle with a dying man.”
“If the cutter would meet us he’d get attention that much sooner. Try it——”
“No!”
“I order you to do it, sir!” The words came thickly. Pritt’s face was ashen. A jury might take into consideration the circumstance and free them, but it would never return ship and cargo—it could not. “I order you to at least attempt it, sir!”