Now came the dangerous task of hauling up the boat of rescuers and survivors. But it was accomplished at last by dint of cool-headed work and seamanship. The two sailors were sent forward to get dry clothing and hot coffee, while the elderly man, who was Captain Ralph Dennis of the wrecked vessel, and his daughter Helen, were cared for in the officers’ quarters aft.
Feeling rather shaky and dripping like a water-rat, Jack hastened to make a change of clothing. By the time this was accomplished, the Ajax was once more on her course. Hardly had he drawn on dry socks before the old bos’n was at the door.
“The skipper wants to see you forward. I rather suspect there’s a storm brewing for you, younker,” was his greeting.
“I’ll be there right away,” said Jack, and having pulled on his boots, he hastened forward. As he went, his heart beat a little faster than usual. What fault had he committed now, he wondered. Jack was a modest youth, but he had suspected praise rather than censure for the part he had taken in the rescue.
The skipper was in the chart-house giving a few directions before he turned in, after an almost continuous twenty-four hours of duty.
He greeted Jack with a frown.
“Ready, who gave you orders to go away in that boat?” he demanded sternly.
“No one, sir, but I thought——”
“You had no business to think. This is not a man-of-war or a passenger boat, but if everyone on board did as they thought best, where would discipline be?”
Jack stood dumbly miserable. He had performed what he thought a meritorious act and this was his reward!