The man's companion laughed uproariously and was called sharply to
account by the one who had fallen.
Now came the supreme test for Harriet. She could scarcely restrain
herself from crying out, springing up and running away. Instead, she
lay perfectly quiet, breathing as lightly as possible. The man got up
growling.
"Confound these dark holes," he snarled.
"Hurt yourself?" questioned his companion.
"No, only skinned my wrist. Let's get back to the boat. Why doesn't
the Cap'n do it himself instead of asking us to take all the risks and
all the knocks to boot?"
"Because he is paying us for doing it. I reckon you'd better do as
you're told if you want to come in for the clean-up. We'd better be
hustling, too, for Cap'n wants to get under way. We've lost too much
time already and we'll be in bad first thing we know."
The man who had fallen answered with an unintelligible growl. He had
not looked behind him to see what he had fallen over. Instead, he
wrapped a handkerchief about his wrist and started on. The two men
trudged on down toward where they had left their boat. They were
nearly at the beach before Harriet Burrell finally sat up.
"Wasn't that a narrow escape?" she breathed. "He fell over me and
never saw me.
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