“Got him off, Strake, and they’re towing the boat along.”
“Hurrah!” shouted the two men, whose position in an indentation of the rock line had prevented them from seeing what was going on.
The rope was lowered down with the loop all ready, and Strake was hauled up first, his appearance over the side being greeted with a cheer, and plenty of hands were ready to help him into a sitting position, for it was evident that he could not lift one leg.
“Never mind me, my lads,” he said, quietly. “Get Rogers on deck first.”
This was soon effected, the smart young sailor displaying an activity as he scrambled over the edge of the rocks that contrasted strangely with the boatswain’s limp.
“Now, Strake,” said Syd, as soon as he had seen Rogers safe, “are you hurt?”
“Hurt, sir? Did you say hurt?”
“Yes, yes, man.”
“Well, I s’pose I am, sir, for I feels as if I’d got a big sore place spread all over me. Mussy me, sir, that’s about the hardest rocks to fall on as ever was.”
“But no bones broken?”