The Radio Detectives Under the Sea by A. Hyatt Verrill

Author:A. Hyatt Verrill
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781620134375
Publisher: Duke Classics

Chapter VIII - Lost

*

Long before they had recovered from their fright, from the strain and the reaction, Rawlins appeared, his face pale, but with its habitual cheerful grin and half-carrying Sam.

"I'll say that was a close call!" he exclaimed, as he placed the negro on a seat. "Say, get some brandy or whisky quick! Sam's all in."

As the others crowded about, laughing, congratulating, expressing their relief and joy at his escape and forcing liquor between Sam's blue lips, Rawlins was busily chafing and rubbing the man's cold body and limbs, slapping his chest and back and giving orders.

"Get some hot coffee," he commanded, "and blankets. He'll be all right soon. Went to pieces in the air-lock—couldn't help me off with the suit and had a devil of a time with it. Bully boy, Sam! There, old sport, how do you feel?"

A sickly smile spread over Sam's haggard features.

"Ah's all right, Chief," he whispered. "Did Ah finish tha' sea-cat, Chief?"

"I'll say you did!" cried Rawlins. "Cut him clean in two! Blamed lucky for me too. Here, take this coffee!"

Sam gulped down the steaming coffee and was wrapped in the blankets and slowly the color came back to his lips and he took deep, long breaths.

"You're all right now," declared Rawlins. "Be fit as ever and ready for another scrap with an octopus before dinner. Say, Sam, I can't—" Rawlins swayed, his face went white as a sheet and he grasped wildly at a stanchion. Willing hands seized him and carried him to a couch where, for five minutes, they worked feverishly over him before he opened his eyes and regained consciousness.

"By Jove, but you've got grit!" exclaimed Mr. Henderson. "Nerviest thing I ever saw! Imagine going through that horror and then bringing Sam in and tending to him before you gave in! Rawlins, old man, you're a marvel!"

Rawlins grinned and rose to a sitting posture.

"Guess I was a bit knocked out and shaken," he admitted. "I'll say it's no sport fighting a darned octopus!" and then, with a whimsical smile, "Say, I'll be able to make a corking film of an octopus next time. I thought that last one of mine was a peach, but it didn't have enough pep to it. Never thought when I invented that rubber beast I'd ever get in a scrap with a real one."

"Oh, it was terrible!" cried Tom. "How can you joke about it?"

"Easy to laugh as to cry," replied Rawlins. "All's well that ends well, you know. I guess you're glad you didn't go down now."

"You bet we are!" declared Frank. "Gee! I don't believe I'll ever go down again. I'd imagine there were devil fish waiting for me everywhere. Ugh!"

"Never had to tackle one before," said Rawlins, "and I've been diving for years. Well, I guess I'm O.K. I'll get busy on that wreck again."

"Not for one minute!" said Mr. Pauling decisively. "You'll just forget that wreck—at least as long as you are with me. If you feel all right we'll get

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