And now, good-by again!"
"One moment, Miss Maxwell," broke in Gray's quiet voice from the upper
deck. "You can't engineer that scheme with a one-man crew, and he sick
and unwilling. I am going with you. You must take me aboard, wet or
dry."
"I am well armed, and shall admit of no interference," she cried.
"I promise to obey orders."
"If I wanted you, Mr. Gray, I should have sought your help."
"It is one thing or the other--a wriggle down a rope or a high diving
act."
"You have no right to impose such an alternative on me."
"I hate it myself, and I can't dive worth a cent. You will hear a
beastly flop when I strike the damp."
"Mr. Boyle--I call on you to hold him."
Boyle explained luridly that the American was doing a balancing act on
the rail eight feet above his head. Elsie, taking her eyes off Suarez
for an instant, discerned Gray's figure silhouetted against the sky.
She yielded.
"There is a rope ladder fastened to the lowest rail, near where the
canoe was moored," she said.
"Is there to be any catch-as-catch-can business, Boyle?" demanded Gray.
"No.
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