"No, no," he cried; "I won't go. I'll stay with my father till you——"
"Spoke like a hero," cried Jeffs, "but orders must be obeyed, my lad," and seizing the little fellow round the waist, he ran down to the deck, then right to the bows, with his burden struggling and striking at him to escape. The next minute, he was up on the bulwark, and as a wave surged up, plunged overboard, rose directly well clear of the vessel on the rocks, looked back, to see the Captain on the bridge, and then, holding the boy's head well above the water with his left arm, struck out with his right, for the shore.
It was a hard fight to avoid the rocks, but the life-belts made the task easier, and Tom Jeffs swam and was carried on shore-ward, to where a dozen fishermen were on the look-out with ropes, one of whom ran in from the sands to the coxswain's help, and dragged him in to safety; but, in spite of all his efforts, the Skipper was insensible. He soon roused, to stand with Jeffs, watching his father, lashed to the bright brass handrail on the bridge.
"Get a boat, Jack; oh, get a boat," cried the boy.
"You be a man and listen, youngster," cried the coxswain tenderly, but firmly. "Hear what I says, and act like a man. These here, as knows the coast, says no boat could be launched now, but the tide's a-falling fast, and bimeby they'll go and fetch the skipper off—if she don't go to pieces fust," he added to himself.
"And take me too!" cried the boy wildly.
"Well, we'll see, my lad, but one on us o' course. But, Master Bob, do you know what you ought to do?"