Jimmy in return shouted reassurance to Bobby, and ran back for another
effort to pull him out. But again he pulled and pulled in vain. With all
the strength he had he could not pull Bobby up a single inch. With a
sickening dread at his heart, he refastened the line.
CHAPTER V
THE RESCUE
Jimmy realized that there was no help to be had from outside. There was
no one at home but Mrs. Abel, and rowing the skiff alone against the
tide fully four hours would be consumed in reaching there and another
three hours in coming back. Then it would be well past dark. An easterly
breeze was springing up, and a chop was rising on the bay. This
easterly wind was likely to bring with it a cold storm, and Bobby,
suspended thirty feet above the water, and not warmly dressed, might
perish.
"Yes," said Jimmy, "he might perish! He might perish! And it would be my
fault!"
The thought brought a cold perspiration to Jimmy's forehead, and a cold,
unnatural feeling to his spine, and in desperation he tried the line
again. But it was useless effort. He could not pull it up. And again he
ran to the cliff, crawled out and peered over at the dangling and by no
means silent Bobby.
"Hey there, Jimmy! Pull me up! Hurry!" shouted Bobby.
"I can't! I can't budge you! Oh, Bobby, what are we going to do?"
"If you can't pull me up, let me down!" Bobby was growing impatient. "I
can't stand this much longer. The line is cutting me in two."
"Try to climb up the line," suggested Jimmy, the idea striking him as a
bright one.
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