Then he
shoved further off with an oar and sudsided onto a seat.
"Back in ten minutes for you, Han!" he shouted. "You wait here! I'll
bring some alcohol!"
When a dozen choppy strokes had taken him out of sight of the shore his
panic subsided a little and two thoughts came to him. The first was that
he was treating Han rather scurvilly and the second was that he hadn't
more than the haziest notion where the _Adventurer_ lay! But, having
embarked, he kept on. Probably ten or fifteen minutes wouldn't make much
difference in Han's case, while, as for finding the cruiser, he would
shout after he had rowed a little further and doubtless someone aboard
would hear him.
So he went on into the mist, occasionally stopping to scratch a wrist or
wiggle about on the seat in the endeavour to abate the prickling
sensation in back or shoulders. It seemed to him now that he was
infected from head to toes. Presently, having rowed some distance, he
began to hail. "_Adventurer_ ahoy!" he shouted, "O Steve! O Joe!"
He stopped rowing, rubbed a wrist, peered into the fog and waited. But
no answering hail reached him. He lifted his voice again. "Ahoy!
_Adventurer_ ahoy! Are you all dead? Where are you?"
This time there was an answer, faint but unmistakable, and, somewhat to
Perry's surprise, it came from almost behind him.
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