The Huns still kept out of sight, with no attempt at gunnery. I heard a deep moan in the bottom of our boat, as of one coming out of an anesthetic, augmented by the delightful endearments of the little girl.
"Oh, Daddy, I knew you would come back. Don't you know little Jim now? I am here to take care of you. Now you know me, don't you?" I glanced to see that he was on his back and she was kissing his forehead above the mask in frantic joy, a most remarkable filial demonstration.
"Is your father out of danger?" I called to her.
"Oh, yes--he is breathing the oxygen regular now and knows me; he will be all right soon. Can I help you?" she replied joyfully. "He has been that way often. So have I, when sponging."
"I must examine that boat yonder before it sinks. I want some heavy cord."
She looked about for a moment and spied the cord she had taken from her father's belt and tied to the cleet. She unfastened it and began pulling it in, but she could raise it only part way. I took the rifle in my right hand and assisted her with my left. In a moment we brought up an ingot of copper.
"Daddy must have used this to carry the line to the bottom," said she, but I thought of the heavy rolls of sharkskin leather in the warehouse. She removed the cord and began winding it about her little hand into a hank.
"Now, little Jim, I am going to use your boat to reach that wreck. Time is important. Has your father a rifle aboard?"
"Yes," she replied exultingly. "And here it is."
"Now, I know you are a dead shot. While I start the motor and get our boat over to the wreck, keep it covered."
An anxious glance at her father reassured her. He was breathing the oxygen regularly.
"I can do that. Shall I just scare them?"
"Unless they come out with hands up, instantly shoot to kill," I replied positively.
She brought the rifle across the gunwale, resting on one knee in the cockpit, her body tense and alert. Her steadiness was inspiring. I knew then that the man I most wanted, the man with the bandaged hand, would know I was protected, for he had already tested her markmanship.
A moan came from the reviving father drinking the life-giving oxygen.
"Yes, Daddy, I will be there in a few minutes. Breathe the oxygen deep and you will be up soon," she called to him affectionately, at the same time gazing steadily along the rifle barrel trained upon the Boche boat.