“They’re men, Captain!” he reported. “Mr. Splendor is holding two of them, and there’s another in his cockpit. All three look to be unconscious, sir!”
“Lower the whaleboat!” bellowed Riggs, leaning over the bridge’s rail. “Stand by to take men off the seaplane. Darnley, tell the medical officer to prepare berths in the sick bay. I’m going in the boat myself!”
Moments later the seaplane’s crew gave up their helpless passengers to the whaleboat. Michael Splendor, his eyes streaming with tears from the poison gas fumes, insisted on going back at once for another rescue attempt.
“We’ve still to find the main shore party, Captain!” he explained between gasps for breath. “There’s young Winslow and Pennington still to be found, not to forget Admiral Colby’s daughter. Every second will count if we’re to save their lives!”
“You’re right, Mr. Splendor!” agreed Riggs, balancing in the whaleboat’s sternsheets. “We’ll follow you inshore, as soon as we get these poor fellows aboard. The smoke looks to be thinning now. Good luck!”
His words were drowned out by the roar of the seaplane’s motors. Like a huge water bird she taxied around, heading back to the beach. At the same moment, the boat’s oarsmen gave way with short powerful strokes that sped them toward the waiting ship.
Once alongside, the boat falls were made fast by expert hands, and the whaleboat was lifted dripping from the water. Even before the gassed seamen were transferred to the sick bay, the ship was nosing shoreward to join in the next desperate attempt at rescuing Don Winslow and his gallant companions.
Many hours later a westering sun cast its mellow rays through the portholes of the gunboat Gatoon, now a floating hospital anchored off the coast of Haiti. In the vessel’s sick bay, a white-coated medical officer bent frowning over one of the ten occupied berths. So intently was he watching the patient that he failed to hear the door open, or see the approach of the big man in the wheelchair.
“I thought this is where I’d find you, Doctor!” exclaimed the latter, his tone warm with a touch of Irish brogue. “They told me the seaman, Jerry, is sinking fast!”