“You’re right,” said Mr. Bailey. “We don’t often get such a storm as this in summer. It’s a hummer, all right. Can you take care of these fellers alone?”
“Just watch me,” answered Bain, bringing out his automatic.
The heavy driving rain had settled to a drumming downpour. The sea seemed to be flattened under the weight of it, to be spreading out like a pond when the water rises. The tide had turned and the waves were breaking nearer and nearer the stern of the wreck.
They reached the open hatchway and Mr. Seymour called, “Ben?”
“Hey, there!” The boy’s voice came faint but cheerful. “Have you really come at last? I thought a week had gone by!”
“We’ll have you out in a jiffy,” shouted Jo. “Come on up, the coast is clear.”
“I can’t,” answered Ben. “The ladder’s broken and I can’t reach high enough.”
Mr. Bailey and Mr. Seymour looked anxiously about. “Any rope?” asked Mr. Bailey. The bare rain-swept deck offered nothing.
“Get our ladder!” exclaimed Ann, and Jo dashed after it.
That, dropped down to the bottom of the hold and placed against the ship’s ladder, enabled Ben to climb to safety.