"Oh!" she cried. "The sharks!"
"Haven't I always told you that boy was a wonder?" chuckled Tyke.
But here Whitlock touched his cap.
"Beggin' your pardon, Cap'n," he said apologetically, "but if Mr. Drew was as slow with his fists as he is with tellin' his story, meanin' no disrespec', me an' my mates wouldn't be here."
"Go ahead, Whitlock," said the captain. "It is like pulling teeth to get anything from Mr. Drew."
Whitlock told the story, which lost nothing in the telling.
There was a pause, tense with emotion, and all eyes were turned on Drew. Tyke's hand clapped him on the shoulder, but the old man did not trust himself to speak. Ruth's eyes were wet, but the tears could not obscure a look that made the young man's heart thump wildly.
"Allen," said the captain, taking his hand, "it was the pluckiest thing I ever heard of. If we get out of this place alive, we shall owe it all to you."
"You make too much of it," disclaimed Drew, red and confused. "But hadn't we better stow away these things the men have brought along? Here's the box of cartridges I found under your berth."
The captain fairly shouted.