Jim was an awkward nurse; but his patient had more vitality than was apparent at the first glance, and before the boy could bathe his face thoroughly he had revived sufficiently to grasp the pitcher with both hands, drinking most greedily.
"Don't let him have all he wants!" Harry cried. "I've heard that people who have been almost starved shouldn't have too much at a time."
Jim tried to wrest the pitcher from the man's desperate clutch, but he swallowed the liquid more eagerly, and the boy was forced to exert all his strength in order to accomplish his purpose.
"Wait a bit," he said as he held the vessel behind him. "You can drink till you bu'st, after a spell, but I reckon Harry's right about takin' too much just now."
The man looked fiercely at Jim for an instant as if about to spring upon him and thus obtain that which would quench his burning thirst, and then, controlling himself with an effort, he asked in a whisper:
"Where are the crew?"
"There ain't any on board. Us three boys are alone. Have you got strength enough to climb over the rail?"
Instead of answering the question the man attempted to rise to his feet, but his limbs refused to obey the will, and he sank back on the thwart as if about to relapse into unconsciousness again.
"Here, drink some more water," Jim cried quickly; and when the sufferer had swallowed half a dozen mouthfuls eagerly, he shouted to the others: "Lean over the rail and try to get hold of him!"
At the same moment he lifted the emaciated form—he had often raised heavier burdens—until those above could seize him under the arms, after which the remainder of the task was easy of accomplishment.