“Please don’t try to drag me, Mr. Hardy. It’s certain you’ll come out all right alone, an’ I’m afraid——”
“Benny, I’d sooner never go ashore than get there without you,” Sam replied, speaking very gravely; “so we won’t make any talk about that part of it. Do as I’ve said, an’ we’ll both be back at the station to-morrow mornin’, or neither of us shows up there again. Are you ready?”
“Whenever you say the word, sir,” Benny replied stoutly, although it seemed as if his heart was in his throat.
“I hate to leave the life-boat, but the Government can easier buy a new one than I can get another lease of life, so here goes. Stand close by my side, No. 8, an’ jump with me.”
The boy obeyed promptly, although the strongest man might well have been excused for hesitating at such a leap.
The water did not run in waves at this point, but swirled and foamed over the rocks beneath in eddying circles which threatened to suck down everything within reach until it was like a seething mass of boiling yeast.
“There’s depth enough to prevent us from coming to harm against the bottom,” Sam said reassuringly, “and we’ve only to swim a quarter of a mile before gaining a good landing-place, even if Tom Downey don’t send some one to help us. All ready, lad! Keep your wits about you, an’ leave the rest with me.”
Then Sam flung his arm around the boy’s waist, pressing the lad close to him as he leaped.
Down, down, until it seemed to Benny as if they would never reach the bottom, and then came the up-rising, followed by the blessed relief of being able to breathe once more.