“I’ll never tell, sir, though I can’t see that you have anything to be ashamed of, for nobody would want to take such chances as might have come. But how are we going to get out? While the steamer is heeled over so badly I can’t climb up the stanchion.”
“We’ll hold on a spell, till you’re rested, and then I can give you a lift up on my shoulder.”
“I’m ready to try now, sir. I wasn’t very tired—only for a minute or two.”
“You’re a lad after my own heart, Benjamin, an’ so long as I have a dollar or a shelter, half of it belongs to you! Now then, get up on my shoulder, an’ once we’re on deck it’s the same as if this foolish thing never happened, except when we two are alone.”
Benny scrambled up as Sam had directed, and then the surfman, cautioning him to keep his knees stiff, lifted the lad straight above his head until he could seize the hatch-combing.
Once on deck he let down a length of rope, and Sam Hardy was soon released from his temporary prison.
“I reckon I’d better get back to the station right away, or I’ll be getting into more mischief, like some youngster,” the surfman said grimly as he shouted to the crew of a small boat at hand to take him ashore.
The captain of one of the wrecking tugs came alongside at this moment, and, seeing Sam, cried.
“Don’t be in a hurry, Hardy. I’m going to have a look at the cargo, and you’d better go with me. It’ll be interesting to find out how well it was stowed.”
“Do you know what she’s loaded with?”