"I'll call out when I reach the water," said Benson; "then pay out three yards more quickly so that I can get to the bottom."
"Very good, sir," answered both.
Their master threw the other leg over the coping and sat motionless. His back was turned toward the men as he sat with head bent, looking down the shaft. He sat for so long that George became uneasy.
"All right, sir?" he inquired.
"Yes," said Benson, slowly. "If I tug at the rope, George, pull up at once. Lower away."
The rope passed steadily through their hands until a hollow cry from the darkness below and a faint splashing warned them that he had reached the water. They gave him three yards more and stood with relaxed grasp and strained ears, waiting.
"He's gone under," said Bob in a low voice.
The other nodded, and moistening his huge palms took a firmer grip of the rope.
Fully a minute passed, and the men began to exchange uneasy glances. Then a sudden tremendous jerk followed by a series of feebler ones nearly tore the rope from their grasp.
"Pull!" shouted George, placing one foot on the side and hauling desperately. "Pull! pull! He's stuck fast; he's not coming; PULL!"