And skipper Ralph contrived it so that another big wave came racing and rolling over the River Swallow’s sharp bow. It was the last straw. La Rue went to pieces utterly.
CHAPTER XXV.
LA RUE’S WILD LEAP.
“Aren’t there any life preservers on board?” he wailed piteously.
His tones might have stirred a heart of flint. Ralph actually felt sorry for the fellow, wretch as he knew him to be. But the thought of the revolver that had been so recently pressed against him, and the threats with which he had been overwhelmed, steeled him against compassion.
“Life preservers? I don’t believe there are, Hawke,” he said. “You see, the boat was to be equipped with a new type of preserver and the old ones were all sent ashore some days ago. They have not yet been replaced by new ones.”
“I’d give a thousand dollars for a life preserver right now!” cried Hawke. “I am rich. I could reward anyone who would save my life.”
Ralph’s strategy had worked. The fellow was in abject fear of his life by this time. He was firmly convinced that the River Swallow was doomed to be annihilated.
Another big wave slapped the craft on the bow, sending a shower of spray high over her.
“Oh, Lord!” groaned La Rue. “I thought sure we were gone that time, Captain Stetson.”
“For shame! Be a man, Hawke. Is there anything you want to save?”