“O’ course, Master Syd, sir. Never struck me till this instant. Well, I’m proud o’ you, sir, I am indeed, and it’s a comfort to me now as I did have something to do with teaching of you.”
“What’s that mean? What does Rogers want?”
“Dunno, sir. Caught a big ’un, I s’pose, or lost his line. You give him leave to fish, didn’t you?”
“Yes.—Well, Rogers, what is it? Got any fish?”
“Lots, sir. But here’s a big boat, sir, close in; floating upside down.”
“Boat?” cried Strake. “Ay, ay, my lad; that means firewood for the hauling up; soon dry on the rocks.”
The news brought Roylance from Mr Dallas’s quarters, and Terry hurried down, the little party finding that the current had brought a water-logged boat as big as a small schooner close in to the rock, by which it was slowly floating some forty yards away.
“If we could only get a rope made fast on board,” cried Syd, excitedly, as he gazed at the swept decks, and masts broken off quite short.
“I’ll swim off with a line, sir,” said Rogers.
“Ugh! sharks!” ejaculated Roylance.