“Certainly, sir.”
“Then now’s your time. Over you go.”
“I thought you would run in a few miles nearer,” said Uncle Dick.
“Did you, sir?” said the captain roughly; “then you made a great mistake. This sea swarms with reefs and shoals nigher in, and I’m not going to be mad enough to risk my vessel, if you’re mad enough to risk your life. Now, sir, please, I want to get ahead and claw off here before it falls calm. If I don’t, some of these currents ’ll be landing me where I don’t want to go.”
“We are ready,” said Uncle Dick.
“Haul that boat abreast the starboard gangway!” shouted the captain, and a couple of men ran to obey the order.
“Well, good-bye, captain,” said Uncle Dick, “and thank you for what you’ve done.”
“Good-bye, sir, and good luck to you. You too, youngster; but it isn’t too late yet.”
“Much,” said my uncle, and it seemed quite strange to me that what followed took so short a time. For one minute we were on the deck of the large vessel, the next we were standing up in our little boat, waving our hats to the crew, who had crowded to the side to give us a cheer; and the last faces I noted as they glided away were those of the carpenter and the boy, who gazed after us in a wistful way, the latter looking miserable in the extreme as he held his left hand over his eye.