“Wal, boys, you jist hurry off into that thar boat, an don’t mind me. I know my dooty. You can’t expect me to leave this here deck till the last man. It don’t signify argufyin. Hurry off.”
At this moment there was another sound; something between a gasp and a gurgle. It seemed like the death-rattle of the Antelope.
“She’s going down, boys!” cried Bart. Involuntarily they retreated towards the boat. But here they paused yet again, for there was a brief respite, and the Antelope was yet afloat.
“Won’t you come, captain?” cried Bart.
“O, all right,” said Captain Corbet, waving his hand; “all right. You jest get aboard the boat. Don’t you mind me. Remember, I’m the captain, an I’ve got to be the last man.”
This seemed to the boys like a promise to follow them.
“Come along, boys,” said Bart. “He’ll get into the boat if we do. He wants to be last.”
Saying this, the three boys clambered over the Antelope’s side, and it was with a feeling of relief that they found themselves once more in the boat.
“Now, captain,” cried Bruce, “hurry up. Come, Solomon. Captain, make Solomon come on board, and then you’ll be the last man.”
Captain Corbet smiled, and made no reply. As for Solomon, he merely muttered something about “dat ar ole woman” and “gridiron.”