Читать книгу The Wireless Operator—With the U. S. Coast Guard онлайн

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Henry turned and started to mount the ladder. He noticed that one of the sailors was close behind him, apparently ready to support him if he needed help. But Henry was not now in need of assistance. His strength was increasing every minute. He grasped the ladder-rail and mounted upward, and when he looked ahead of him, he saw that the cutter’s rail was lined with faces. Apparently the entire crew had been watching the rescue.

As he reached the deck, Henry looked about him. Dozens of sailors, in their strange blue uniforms, were gathered forward of the ladder. And just aft of it stood a group of officers, looking very brave and trim in their blue uniforms, with their gold-braided caps and their gold-embroidered sleeves and shoulders. The captain looked especially fine. He was a heavy-set man with a ruddy countenance. His uniform gave him an air of real distinction. Somehow, his face looked familiar to Henry, but it was not until the man spoke that Henry knew who he was.

“Bless my stars!” exclaimed the captain, when he had taken a good look at Henry. “If it isn’t the lad who saved me from that old motor truck a few hours ago!” Then, without a word to Henry, he said: “Hustle him down to the fireroom, rub him briskly, fill him up with hot coffee, get him some dry clothes, and, when you get him to sweating good, bring him to my cabin. Now, step lively.”