Sandy had also gotten to his knees in front of the bunk. He waited, panting, until the barge heaved in the right direction, and then threw himself over the edge of the lower bunk, squirming and fighting until he was on it again.
When they were both in place, Ken said, “I’ll have to tell you exactly when to kick the door shut. You won’t be able to see him, once it’s open. When I yell, you let drive.”
Sandy didn’t answer for a minute. When he did, his voice was low and jerky. “It’s no use, Ken. I wouldn’t be able to kick a ping-pong ball now.”
“Cut that out!” Ken said sharply. “You’ll do it all right. When you’ve had a minute’s rest. Listen! The engine’s stopped again! Now he’s got to work on it some more. Just relax until he comes in. Take deep breaths.”
A wash of solid water struck the side of the cabin, and water began to ooze in under the door, forming a slowly widening puddle. The kerosene lamp in its wall bracket flickered as a gust of cold wet wind rattled the windows and penetrated inside.
Sandy was lying perfectly still on his back, his legs hanging over the side of the bunk. Ken watched him tensely. Finally Sandy gave a long, shuddering sigh. Then he lifted his head slightly to take a sight on the door, shifted his body a few inches, and slowly brought his knees up toward his chest. If he thrust them out they would strike the outer edge of the door as it was flung open.
Ken’s own sigh of relief came all the way from his numb and nerveless toes. Sandy was going to be all right.
“But I won’t be able to hold this position for very long. And if I let my legs down—”
“No! Don’t do that!” Ken said urgently. “We won’t get any warning. He’ll just burst in when he comes.”
“See?” Ken said. “It’s going again. Any second now—”
He broke off and listened intently. There was a lull in the storm, and in the unexpected quiet they could hear the pumping engine ticking smoothly away. They could even hear the gurgle of water spouting out of its pipe.
A long minute passed, and then another. Ken watched Sandy, and his heart thudded in sympathy. Sometimes Sandy’s legs would sink forward and down, and Ken would catch his breath. But Sandy always pulled them back again, the muscles of his neck drawn tight with the effort.