Deftly he seized him by the collar of his woolen shirt, which, fortunately, was unbuttoned at the throat, and then came the struggle for life, when the treacherous undertow tugged at his legs and the weight of the lad he was bent on rescuing, flung seaward by the heavy wave, threatened to overwhelm him. It was no slight task Sam had undertaken; but thanks to his experience in battling against the surf, he finally succeeded in dragging the stranger beyond reach of the next hungry wave, and then fell on the sand beside him, with not sufficient strength remaining to stand upright.
No longer than while one might have counted thirty did Sam remain thus inactive, and then, still panting from his recent struggle, the lad gave all his attention to the boy whose life he had saved.
"I reckon you're all right now," he said, with an effort to speak cheerily, "an' the sooner you move around a bit so's to get rid of the salt-water cargo you must have taken aboard, the better you'll feel."
"It don't seem as if I'd ever get back the use of my legs," the lad said, but without making any effort to follow the advice given, and Sam replied with a hearty laugh which had in it more of relief than mirth:
"This ain't the time to give in beaten, when you're out of your troubles. 'Cordin' to the looks of that boat you must have been washin' 'round quite a spell."
"Since jest before daylight this mornin', an' it's pretty hard work to make myself believe that I haven't been overboard a whole week."
"How did it happen?"
"My boat was run down by the Boston steamer—leastways, I believe it must have been that. I went out alone to bait trawls, 'cause we was short-handed aboard the 'Flyin' Fish,' an' there was no dory-mate for me——"
"Who sent you out alone in the night baitin' trawls?" Sam cried indignantly.
"Why, Cap'en Moses, of course; he allowed, seein's how it was good weather, that I might do the job."