“Swim out to him,” was the reply. Mr. Cole was already shedding his outer clothes. “Do you know who he is?”
They shook their heads.
[“‘It’s a boat bottom-up with a man clinging to it!’”]
“I can’t see,” said Chub. “But he’s having a hard time staying there, I can tell that. The waves are going over him every minute. Do you think you can get to him, sir? Wouldn’t you like me to go along? I’m a pretty fairish swimmer, sir.”
“Let me go!” cried Roy, hurrying back with the big coil of half-inch rope. But Mr. Cole shook his head as he took the rope and tied it under his armpits.
“One’s enough,” he answered. “You keep this end of the rope and when you think best—haul in hard.” He took a final look out of the window at the tossing boat and went to the door and flung it open. The wind and rain burst in upon them, making them gasp. Mr. Cole turned to Dick.
“Hold the dog,” he shouted. “He may try to follow. Pay out the rope as long as you can, boys. If it won’t reach, let go of it and I’ll try to make the end of the island. All right.”