He went aft immediately to find the ensign. Finding Belding close at his shoulder, Whistler said:
“You don’t need to get into this, George. What would your folks say?”
“Just about what yours will say if you chuck your life away for the sake of a lot of Heinies,” returned Belding briefly. “You can’t do it alone. It will take two of us to fasten each Heinie into the buoy so he can be dragged back to the ship.”
“You’ve got the right idea,” agreed Phil, and turned to speak to Mr. MacMasters.
“What do you two chaps want to do—throw your lives away for scum like them?” was the ensign’s first comment upon Whistler’s proposal.
MacMasters had risen from the forecastle himself, having won his billet by hard work. He was apt to look upon most things from the sailor’s standpoint. The crew of the Colodia had already seen enough of the despicable work of the Hun to hate almost with the intensity of Willum Johnson.
“They have to be saved, haven’t they?” Whistler asked quietly and respectfully.
“But why should you do it?” rejoined MacMasters, who really loved the lad and feared for his safety. “Those men over there are not worth it.”
“We are worth it, sir,” put in George Belding with earnestness. “Phil has the right idea, and I want to help him. One fellow can’t do it alone, anyway.”
MacMasters threw up his hands in a helpless gesture. “Of course,” he grumbled, “I’ll take your proposal to Commander Lang,” and strode away toward the bridge.