If she does, and we have
her in charge, that's a nice lump of money for all of us."
"But how are we going to get to him?"
"I'll go," said Joe. "Give me old Bill, and we'll take the boat down on
him. You get the trawl warp ready, and we'll either tow him or steer
him."
"Right, chap; over with your boat, lads!"
Then Bill lay down in the boat, Joe put an oar in the sculling-notch,
and the little thing flew before wind and sea, while the smack drew off
a little. Presently the bulge of the boat's bow glanced along the ship's
side, and Joe flung his painter. Then a man clambered on to the rail,
and Joe roared, "Where are you coming to?"
"I'm the pilot, and I'm coming aboard of you."
"That you're not, you blasted coward! Stay where you are, and we'll see
if we can't save the wessel."
But the pilot had lost his head. He got ready for a jump; the boat
lifted, and he sprang; the backwash pushed her out, and the man's left
foot only just touched the gunwale. He screamed like a woman, gripped
vainly at the air, and rolled under.
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