“You did, Bob,” said the boy, with a queer cock of one eye.
“Consekens is, she’s as strong as can be.”
“You think it would hold together then?” said the doctor.
“Sure on it, sir.”
“Let’s try, then.”
The rope was fastened, the capstan bars were seized, and in a few minutes, as the two men turned, the rope tightened, the raft gradually rose, and soon after stood up edgewise, resting on two of
the corner tubs, and without the slightest disposition to topple over. Then the rope was slackened so as to allow enough to act as a painter to moor the unwieldy framework to the side, levers were seized, and inch by inch it was hitched along the deck to the gangway, and then on and on till a quarter of it was outside, when there was a halt for inspection to see if all was right for it to fall clear.
Bostock declared that it was, but the doctor shook his head.
“It is my belief,” he said, “that it will turn wrong side up when it falls.”