The resumed clanging of the hammer swung by Gunnar, the Swede, told Sandy that his crew had held fast as well.
Now, the hatch was closed. Sam and Gunnar were swiftly and skillfully pounding the steel snugly into place when a sudden gust of wind spun Sam around just as he was bringing his hammer down for the final blow.
Unable to stop himself, Sam now had his whistling sledge hammer aimed directly at the unsuspecting head of Gunnar! In a fraction of a second, the iron hammerhead would drive deep into Gunnar’s skull. It would smash it open as easily as an eggshell, with Sam’s great strength propelling it.
In that tiny interval of time, Sandy Steele swiftly sat down. He buckled his legs and dragged Sam back with him, and as he did, he heard a familiar voice beneath him yelp with pain. There was a loud metallic clang—like the sound of a firebell—as Sam’s sledge hammer swished harmlessly past the back of Gunnar’s head and struck the steel deck with terrific force. But the big Swede had been saved, even if Sandy’s friend Jerry seemed to have wound up a casualty.
He lay writhing on the deck and Sandy had to bend quickly to make sure the rolling of the ship didn’t roll him over the side.
“What’s wrong?” he shouted in Jerry’s ear.
“My ankle,” Jerry yelled back, grimacing. “I think it’s sprained. When you fell on me, I guess.”
Sandy groaned. He was sorry that his friend had been hurt, of course, but now, he realized, he would have to go it alone. He glanced up and saw the Swede staring down with a puzzled look on his face. His gaze wavered from Jerry to the spot where Sam’s hammer had struck, making him jump in surprise. Now Sam was waving his arms wildly and shouting an explanation of what had happened. As he spoke, Gunnar’s mouth came open and his blue eyes grew round.
When Sam had finished, Gunnar came over to Sandy. He leaned down and yelled in his ear, “Tanks. You ban safe my life. You goot poy.”
Sandy nodded, embarrassed. Then he said, “Can you help me move my friend? I think he’s sprained his ankle.”