"I'm going out. I want one man with me. No one with child or wife. Who'll go?"
"I will," shouted Mosey Louis. "I haf some spat wid dat Leon, but I not lak to see him drown for all dat!"
Benjamin offered no objection. The French Canadian's arm was strong and he possessed skill and experience. Mr. Murray caught Benjamin's arm.
"No, no, Benjamin—not you—I can't see both my boys drowned."
Benjamin gently loosed the old man's hold.
"It's for Mary Stella's sake," he said hoarsely. "If I don't come back, tell her that."
They launched the large dory with difficulty and pulled out into the surf. Benjamin did not lose his nerve. His quick arm, his steady eye did not fail. A dozen times the wild-eyed watchers thought the boat was doomed, but as often she righted triumphantly.
At last the drowning men were reached and somehow or other hauled on board Benjamin's craft. It was easier to come back, for they beached the boat on the sand. With a wild cheer the men on the shore rushed into the surf and helped to carry the half-unconscious Braithwaite and Leon ashore and up to the Murray fish-house. Benjamin went home before anyone knew he had gone. Mosey Louis was left behind to reap the honours; he sat in a circle of admiring lads and gave all the details of the rescue.
"Dat Leon, he not tink he know so much now!" he said.
Braithwaite came to the shore next day somewhat pale and shaky. He went straight to Benjamin and held out his hand.