“I’ll stay by him to the end,” he muttered.
He had not long to wait for the end. The Wilmington suddenly began to settle rapidly by the head. Her bulkhead had given way and the sea was rushing in. As the freighter settled, she likewise turned. The executive officer crawled aft, out over the taffrail, and continued his signaling. A sweep of his torch, as he crawled to the rail, revealed his feet. He was still clad in his heavy boots.
“You haven’t taken your boots off, Mr. Harris,” said Henry, quietly; and whipping out his knife, he knelt once more at the feet of this man who was above fear, cut the laces, and dragged off the heavy boots. Before he had time to remove his own shoes there was a terrific crash as the boiler exploded, and the stern of the Wilmington suddenly rose high in air.
“Jump!” shouted the commander; “swim as far away as you can.”
He clutched Henry’s hand. Together they leaped far out from the ship. In another second they were deep under the chilling water, and Henry was fighting to reach the surface.
He came up gasping for breath. The ship was just plunging beneath the waves. Above the roar of the winds Henry could distinguish the sucking noise as she disappeared. He felt himself pulled toward the spot where the ship