"No, fellows; I can't make out so much as a bubble," was the hopeless reply.
"Oh, it's awful!" groaned Will Rogers. "Poor little Cal! And his mother! How can we tell her?"
As the boat drifted near the now anchored sloop Abe Cruger mechanically caught the line flung to him by young Jabe, and she was drawn alongside. One by one the swimmers were hauled up from the water by Captain Crotty's strong hands, and when at length they all stood on deck he inquired in a trembling voice, "How many's missing? Where's the little one?"
"I don't know," answered Will Rogers, with something very like a sob choking his speech. "He is the only one missing; but I'm awfully afraid we'll never see him alive again."
"Waal," said Captain Crotty, hoarsely, "I might have knowed something of the kind would happen, and I'm only thankful there's as many of you left as there is. Of course this ends the cruise, and I shall head back for Berks just as quick as I get a fair wind up the river. Till then we'll lie here and do what we can towards recovering the body. Now, you lads, go below, get out of your wet clothes, give 'em to Jabe to dry, tumble into your bunks and stay there. Stay there, d'ye hear, till I give you permission to leave 'em. Yes, you too," he added to Abe Cruger, who was beginning to explain that he had not been in the water. "I don't want to resk having one of ye on deck. Your supper'll be brought to you when it's ready, so there won't be no occasion to stir out of your bunks before morning."
The skipper so evidently meant what he said that the boys saw it would be useless to argue with him. Moreover they were too shocked by what had happened, and too heavy-hearted for the attempt. So they silently and sadly went below, and Captain Crotty followed them to see that his orders were obeyed to the letter. Not until every Ranger had deposited a little heap of wet clothing on the floor, and crawled in between the blankets of his bunk, did the skipper leave them. Then he returned to the deck for a soothing pipe-smoke and a quiet consideration of the situation. He had hardly got his old black brier-wood well alight before it dropped unheeded from his mouth, while the man stood pale and nervous, as though he had seen a ghost. Of course he had not; but he thought he heard one, which was almost the same thing. From somewhere, though he could not at first locate it, a voice was calling, and it sounded like that of the boy whom all on board were mourning as dead.
"Help! help! Will! Hal! help!" This cry had been repeated over and over again for some minutes; but, owing to the confusion on board, and the noise made by the boys, it had not been heard until now.
The skipper glanced along the deck, cast an eye aloft, and then over both sides of the vessel into the darkening waters. No one was to be seen, and the strong man began to tremble with superstitious fear. He made his way forward and peered over the bows, but saw nothing nor heard any thing, save the ripple of the current against the anchor chain. Walking aft he again heard the voice, and, as he leaned over the stern, it seemed to come from directly beneath him. It sounded so close that he instinctively started back.
The small boat had all this time been kept alongside where young Jabe had fastened it. Now hastening to it, filled with hope and dread, and at the same time almost beside himself with excitement, the skipper dropped astern, where he could look under the overhanging counter. There, from out the dark shadow where swung the ponderous rudder, a white face peered at him, and a weak voice uttered an exclamation of thankfulness.
Two minutes later Captain Crotty descended the companion-ladder and entered the sloop's hold. In his arms he bore the dripping, shivering, bareheaded, and barefooted form of little Cal Moody, the well-loved comrade whose tragic fate the Rangers were discussing in subdued tones.