how. Got him?"

"There arn't no room, messmate."

"Lie up close to me and reach in together. Head in too."

A low groan now came from the hold, and though I could not see, of
course I knew what was going on, and could estimate the difficulties of
the position. Dumlow's two messmates, in their efforts to help him,
were making his position more perilous, for they were forcing their
heads and shoulders into the opening, and stopping off what little air
could get to him.

There was another groan.

"Don't make a row, lad, we're doing our best," came in a distant voice
which sounded as far away as poor Dumlow's groans. "Got him, matey?"

"Ay, ay."

"Both together. Yo ho, ahoy!"

This was all quite in a smothered tone, and accompanied by jerking and
dragging sounds, which as they were kept up were accompanied and
followed by feeble groans.

"Quick, quick!" I cried. "Have him out, or they'll hear on deck."

No one answered, and I moved forward and tried to help by clasping Bob
round the waist.

"Ahoy! Ahoy! Haul away--hoy!"

All in quite a smothered whisper, and then there was another moan.

"Now again. All together."

I joined in and dragged with all my might, but our efforts were in vain,
Barney paused to get a fresh messmate's legs.

"He's worked himself on till he's regularly jammed in," growled Bob.
"Now then, once more; we must have him, or he'll be a dead 'un. Haul.
Now then!"

We all dragged together. There was a sudden giving way, a rush, and I
was on my back with two men--it felt like three--upon me, and I dare not
call out in my horror and pain, but had to lie there listening to
passing footsteps overhead until they had gone, and then to my greater
horror Bob Hampton growled out--

"Well, we've got his legs, anyhow."

There was a smothered groan once more.

"It's all right, messmate," said Barney. "Here's his uppards and head
come too. Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. Are you hurt?"

"Hurt?--yes!" I said angrily, "but never mind me. How's Dumlow?"

There was a low groan in answer.

"Oh, he's all right, sir," said Barney. "We didn't break him. He's all
out."

"No, he arn't all right," growled Bob, who was feeling about in the
dark. "He's in a reg'lar muddle, I dunno what's the matter with him.
Strikes me we've pulled him inside out."

"Go on with yer. It's all right. It's on'y his jersey pulled right
over his head and shoulders, and most off his arms. That's the way.