“Gangway! Let me have a hand, lads,” he cried. But the men stood fast. “You are not fit for it, sir,” answered Dan Davis, barring the way. “Please, sir, sit down and rest yourself. We are fresh and you are not.” “You are——” The words seemed to stick in the ensign’s mouth. “My lad, I think you have quite as much right to rest as have I. Stand aside,” he added in a stern tone. Dan fell back. The officer began working over the body of the diver, bringing his longer experience into play. In a very short time Kester was coughing and choking. It appeared almost as if he were strangling. “Shall we get under way, sir?” questioned the coxswain. “Are we all here?” “Yes, sir. The other boats are tied astern, their crews on board.” “Get under way as quickly as possible. Run as fast as you dare. These men need the attention of the surgeon.” “Aye, aye, sir. Full speed ahead!” The steamer plunged away headed for the battleship. But still the ensign and his men worked over the diver. Little by little he regained consciousness. He was too weak to do more than glance about at them slowly, then his eyes closed wearily. “We’ll save him,” muttered the officer. “We must save him.” “Catch Davis,” shouted a voice. A Jackie caught the boy just in time to prevent Dan from going overboard. They hauled him back with a laughing remark. Dan wavered on his feet for a few seconds then plunged heavily forward on his face. “He’s fainted, sir.” “Let him alone. We shall be aboard ship in a few moments. He will recover by that time.” Soon after that the little steamer ran in under the lee of the battleship. The rail was lined with officers and men. “Anyone lost?” called the executive officer. “No, sir; got them all. Two men in bad shape. Pass over a sling.” Sam was kneeling beside his unconscious companion a troubled look on his face. Almost at once a rope sling was passed over the side. The men reached for the unconscious boy. Sam motioned to the diver. “Take him first,” directed the lad. “He is the worst off.” Bill Kester, therefore, was hoisted to the deck; then came Dan Davis. Tenderly they laid him on the deck. Stretchers were brought and the patients were started quickly for the sick bay. “Ensign, what happened?” demanded the captain. “Briefly, sir, those two lads made the most heroic rescue that I ever either saw or heard of. Especial credit is due to Ordinary Seaman Davis for his wonderful and heroic efforts.” The young officer related all that had occurred out on the mine field, to which the commanding officer together with a group of other ship officers listened with grave faces. “Orderly.” The captain’s voice was full of decision. “Go to the sick bay. Run! Tell the surgeon to send the boy to my cabin.” “Davis, sir?” “Yes, and, Ord’ly.” “Yes, sir.” “Tell the surgeon I wish the boy to be put in my bed. Tell the surgeon to report to me as soon as he has examined the boy.” CHAPTER XXIV—CONCLUSION