“Not now, mein Herr,” shouted Whistler. “You’ve got gall to want to leave your comrades who may be helpless! Get some of them down here--and have a care that you do help them, too, or I’m not so sure that you will ever get to the destroyer at all!” “Impudence! I shall report you to your commanding officer,” declared the Zeppelin’s captain fiercely. “Believe me!” exclaimed Whistler, “that will do you a lot of good. Look out for this fellow, George! Let’s see that he is hauled in last just for that.” “I’m with you,” agreed the other American. “Can you reach that young chap just above your head? I believe he’s got a broken arm.” Whistler had managed to climb out of the sea and stood upon one stay, clinging to another. Now he reached up to aid the fellow George Belding had spoken of. The German was no older than the lads from the destroyer--a thin, pale fellow, his face drawn with pain, and his left arm strapped clumsily to his side. “He’s got a broken arm, all right,” Whistler shouted. “When I pass him down, George, do you unbuckle his belt and fasten him with it to the ring. Then he won’t be swept away, even if he has but one hand to cling with. All ready?” “Here, you!” exclaimed Belding, addressing the “Herr Hauptmann” in no respectful tone. “Lend a hand, will you? If you don’t I’ll cut you adrift.” Belding had out his knife to cut a lashing and he looked as though he would carry out his threat. The Zeppelin commander slid down the stay and aided in lowering the younger German out of the wreck. In five minutes they had him lashed as Whistler suggested to the life buoy, and the young German was on his way to the destroyer. A third inflated ring had been floated down to the tangle of débris drifting in the rising sea. Both Morgan and Belding were aware that they must work rapidly if they would save those of the Germans who were still alive. The wreckage was shifting from moment to moment. One body suddenly plunged beneath the tossing waves, but the Americans knew that the victim was already dead. The men beside the captain had cut themselves loose and crawled down to the level of the sea. These two the rescuers sent away clinging to one of the inflated rings, for they could both handle themselves pretty well. But they kept Commander von Hausen until the first life buoy was emptied and was sent back again, The four bodies left above were not all of live men; the boys were sure of that. And when they had got the first quartette of castaways started for the destroyer, Belding climbed up to cut away the nearest man. He was very weak, and after he was loosened from the stays he proved to be unable to help himself. The situation of the two boys from the destroyer was now becoming very precarious indeed. They could not hang on here for much longer themselves. “One of us will have to go back with this fellow,” declared Belding. “You take him, Phil. I am in better shape than you are.”