Now it was only necessary Benny should feel along the upper side of the hatchway in order to find the rope by which the surfman was suspended, and the first thought was that he could readily pull his comrade up.
With the deck at such an inclination he could get no secure foothold, and the first attempt was sufficient to show him that the task was beyond his strength.
“Can you wait till I go on the upper deck?” he asked anxiously. “There are plenty of men close by; but all hands have left the steamer.”
“Go ahead, lad, but move quickly. I’ve hung here until it seems as if my arms were pulled out of their sockets.”
Benny sought the stanchion by which he had descended, and, gaining it, soon understood that he could no more work his way unaided to the top than Hardy could swarm up the rope while it swung so far away from the side of the vessel.
It seemed to him as if he had spent many minutes in the vain task, when in reality no more than a dozen seconds had been sufficient in which to prove that it was useless, and then he allowed himself to fall back again toward where the rope was made fast.
“I can’t get up,” he cried in a tearful voice. “Suppose I lean way over the hatch till you can get hold of my arms? The two of us should be able to work it in that fashion.”
“I’d pull you down, lad; there’s no use in trying anything like that. If it’s certain you can’t get on deck, I’ll take the chances of what may be below, an’ drop.”
“Don’t do it! Don’t do it! Let me try just once!” and without waiting for a reply Benny bent far over the combing of the hatch, twining his legs around the stanchion.
By letting himself down nearly at full length he found to his great joy that he could touch the surfman’s shoulders.