"Isn't it dreadful?" whispered the latter.

"Yes," said Gabriel, "it's dreadful to be young when a man's drowning,
for you can't do any thing. Hist!"

There was not a movement, as they heard a dull, distant sound.

"I guess that's Jim Greenidge," whispered Little Malacca, under his
breath; "he's the best diver."

Nobody answered. The slow minutes passed. Some of the boys peered timidly
into the dark, and clung closer to their neighbors.

"There they come!" said Gabriel suddenly, in a low voice, and in a few
moments the beat of the oars was heard again. Still nobody spoke. Most of
the boys were afraid that when the boat appeared they should see a dead
body, and they dreaded it. Some felt homesick, and began to cry. The
throb of oars came nearer and nearer. The boat glimmered out of the
darkness, and almost at the same moment slid up the shore. The solemn
undertone in which the rowers spoke told all. Death was in the boat.

Gabriel Bennet could see the rowers step quickly out, and with great care
run the boat upon the truck. He said, "Come, boys!" and they all moved
together and grasped the rope.

"Forward!" said Mr. Gray.

Something lay across the seats covered with a large cloak. The boys did
not look behind, but they all knew what they were dragging. The homely