Biff! Bang! Another buffeting blow. Skipper Ralph was actually beginning to enjoy himself.
“Oh-h-h-h! Ah-h-h-h!” quivered the frightened wretch at his elbow.
“Hadn’t you better hand me that pistol?” asked Ralph sweetly. “You might shoot yourself, you know.”
A groan was the only response from La Rue. The man was abject, disgusting in his cravenness.
But Ralph had no mercy upon him.
“It’s getting worse,” he said positively.
“Wer-wer-worse!”
“That’s what. I did think for a while that we might weather it. I know different now. Hawke, we have not much longer to live.”
“Der-der-der-do you mer-mer-mer-mean that we are ger-ger-going to be d-d-d-drowned?” stuttered La Rue, clasping his hands.
“Brace up! Don’t be a coward! Face drowning like a man, Hawke!”