"My son alive," cried Amos Fearless, turning white, and in a momentary weakness holding to a rail for support.
"Yes, he is--ashore there."
"Oh, are you sure?"
"Go look for yourself. Hurrah!"
Captain Broadbeam was beside himself with genuine gladness.
He clamped his big paw of a hand across his old friend's arm and fairly dragged him across the deck.
"Yes, it's Dave," cried the happy father, taking a look through the spyglass. Then he handed it back to Bob Vilett. The old diver turned his face away. It was wet with tears of thankfulness and joy.
Captain Broadbeam moved about the deck too excited to stand still.
"I felt it in my bones! Didn't I say it all along?" he spoke. "Didn't I stick to it that a lad born to the sea would find a way out of it? Below there, Adams," he hailed to the engineer, "how's she working?"
"Bad, sir; mortal bad," reported the engineer.