, no, you don't. I'm
biggest and I'll make you pull."

"Oh--oh--oh!" whimpered Bob. "Why can't you let a poor fellow be?"

"Be! What for?" shouted Bigley to my astonishment, for I could not have
believed him guilty of such brutality. "Yes, I'll let you be. I'll
make you work, that's what I'll do. I wish I'd a rope's end here."

"It's too bad, it's too cruel, Big," I cried passionately. "How can you
behave so brutally to the poor fellow!"

"Here, you stick to your own work," cried Bigley fiercely. "Look,
you're letting me do all the work. Keep her head to the wind, will
you?"

His orders were so sharp and fierce that I found myself obeying them
directly, and went on baling while Bob whimpered, and Bigley kept on
hectoring over us, as I ladled out a little water now and then.

The wind blew as fiercely as ever, and we knew that we were rapidly
being carried out farther and farther, right away to a certain extent
towards the Welsh coast, but of course being also in the set of the
tide, and going out to sea. The cold was terrible whenever we ceased
pulling from utter weariness, but we managed among us to keep the boat's
head to wind hour after hour, and danced over and over the waves till by
degrees the fury of the wind died out, though we could not believe it at
first. Soon, though, it become very evident that it was sinking, and I
heard Bigley utter a sigh of relief.

It was quite time that the little gale did pass over, for during the
last half hour the water had been coming into the boat more and more, so
that it had become necessary for one of us to keep on baling, for the
waves seemed to be getting more angry; a sharp rain of spray was dashed
from their tops into our necks, and soaking our hair, and every now and
again there was a blow, a splash, and a rush of water through the boat.

It was quite true, though we at first thought that we must be under
shelter of the land; the wind was sinking fast, and the waves lost their
fierce foaminess. They rose and fell, and leaped against the boat, but
it was with less splash and fury, and then, as the danger died away, so
did our remaining strength. Bigley and I, who were now rowing, or
rather dipping our oars from time to time, slowly threw them in, and the
boat lay tossing up and down at the mercy of the waves; but no water
dashed in over the gunwale, and Bob Chowne's hand with the baler rested
helplessly by his side.

No one spoke out there in the dar