"Listen," Bob ordered as he stopped paddling.
"She's off to the left," Jack declared almost immediately as the faint sound of voices reached his sharp ears.
"I hear them," Bob replied and, once more the paddle bit into the water.
"S-s-s-h," Jack cautioned, a moment later.
Bob again stopped paddling and, almost at once, Jack whispered: "I've got hold of the chain."
Before starting they had settled the question as to who was to make the attempt. Jack had insisted that he could do it with less noise than his brother, but Bob had reminded him that he was more careful and had finally flatly refused to go unless he would agree to let him make the try and Jack, knowing that he meant what he said, had reluctantly given in.
"Now remember," Bob reminded him, "if I get pinched you're to put back for the boat and tell them what's up."
"I understand, but you're not going to get pinched," Jack encouraged him.
Slowly foot by foot Bob worked his way up the chain, not making the slightest noise, and soon reached the side of the boat. And now came the crucial moment. Could he reach up far enough to grasp the rail and swing himself over? That was a question he had been asking himself ever since they left the Valkyrie. He had not noticed, before the fog came, how far from the deck were the anchor holes and he knew that were they too far down it would be impossible for him to get aboard in that way.
Fortunately the links of the chain were large and, with a prayer in his heart, he gripped it firmly with his feet and, inch by inch, began to raise himself up against the side of the ship. Higher and higher crept his fingers until he knew that he could reach but an inch or two farther. Then, to his unbounded joy, they closed over a rod. It was very fortunate that he was the athlete he was, else he never could have drawn himself up and, as it was, it required every ounce of strength he possessed. But finally he succeeded in getting one foot over and the rest was easy so far as getting aboard was concerned.