“I don’t care if it’s four thousand miles,” Walter shouted back. Then he ceased to talk for a few moments while he caught another message. Pretty soon he spoke again, but now in a pleading tone:
“Det, Det, do get busy. This boat must start as soon as ever we can get ready. Mother and Guy may have to float in an open boat for days. We can’t run any unnecessary risks. Other steamers may pick them up, and then again they may not. Tony, will you go along?”
“Give me time to run and ask pa,” replied the boy addressed.
“I’ll give you half an hour. By that time we’ll be gone, whether you’re here or not. There’s no time to waste.”
Tony was off like a shot before his friend had finished speaking. Meanwhile Det was mechanically obeying orders. He could not well do otherwise. He wished heartily that the boy’s father were at home. He longed for more authority for such an undertaking. It was a time of the year when the sea was treacherous, and it was risky business to attempt such a trip in so small a boat. Moreover, the chances of success were so few as to render the proposition almost foolhardy in his opinion.
And yet, he dared not take the responsibility of opposing Walter. There was too much at stake. Surely Mr. Burton would countenance any step, however hazardous, taken for the purpose of rescuing two members of his family from so great a peril. If the crew of the Jetta were lost, the owner would have the consolation of knowing that they died heroes.
Det decided to go. The more he thought over the matter, the less argument he could offer against the move. He concluded that he would be branded as a coward and an unfaithful employee of the Burton family if he showed a disposition to hinder any rescue plan, unless he could offer a better. He went into the engine room, made a careful survey of the quarters, found that Walter had made practically all the preparations necessary, and then returned to the young skipper.
“Everything’s ready,” he announced. “I’m going to the house and tell Mag, an’ then I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for an answer, he was gone. He ran all the way to the house, burst into the bedroom where his wife lay, impatiently waiting his return, and in excited tones and short sentences informed her what had happened:
“Big steamer wrecked ’way up the coast. Mrs. Burton an’ Guy on board. We’re goin’ up there in the Jetta. Good-by. We’ll be gone several days.”