"I was right over the hatch, and I had either to go down or jump over: I couldn't stop there."
"And you did the same thing, Hyde," added the officer.
"I couldn't help it, sir," replied he. "When Hunter got over, he dragged me so far that I couldn't stop."
"Why didn't you let go, then?" demanded Leavitt, angrily.
"I was afraid the next bar would hit me in the head."
Both of these boys were ordinarily models of propriety, and they had not, for an instant, intended to do anything out of order. The real culprits were all at the foot of the stairs, rubbing their limbs and making the most terrible contortions, as though their legs, arms, and heads were actually broken. The officers had all seen Hunter and Hyde pushing along the bars after the order had been given to stop. They seemed to be guilty, and they were required to report at the mainmast to the first lieutenant, for discipline. The second lieutenant then went down the fore-hatch, where the appalling spectacle of a crowd of sufferers was presented to his view.
"Are you hurt, Little?" he asked, turning to the most prominent victim of the catastrophe.
"Yes, sir," groaned Little, twisting his back-bone almost into a hard knot, and trying to reach the seat of his injury with both hands at the same time.
"How happened you to fall through?" inquired Leavitt, more gently than he had spoken on deck, for the sight of all this misery evidently affected him.
"I don't know, sir," answered Little, with one of his most violent contortions. "I was looking up at the fore-yard arm, and—ugh!—the first thing I knew, I was—O, dear!—I was down here, with that—ugh!—with that plank on top of me."