The next thing he knew, water had smothered his nose, his mouth, and he was inside, looking out.
He was staring into the smothered face of the damned kid.
Shortly after that he drowned. He couldn't get out. Another drop fell, another, and another, another, another, adding themselves to the original mass....
On the high seas, the S.S. Wilcox battered through rising, flooding seas.
The captain stood on the bridge, yelling orders to his men below.
The first mate flung water from his face, gritted, "We'll never make port."
A sailor came up the companionway, steadying himself on the handrail.
"There's water pouring through a hole in a forward section," he gasped hoarsely. "We can't caulk it. She's sinking at the stem."
"Mr. Jones," said the captain, "sound the signal to abandon ship."