One dollars.
“The boat is sinking,” reported the sailor to the captain.
“Do nothing about it,” the captain said.
Five men jumped overboard, and so the sailor returned.
“The boat is still sinking, and we’ve lost five men.”
“I’ve got it under control,” the captain said. The captain sat his desk, sipped his whiskey, and rubbed his legs.
Ten more men jumped overboard, and so the sailor returned.
“The boat is almost completely underwater, and we’ve lost half our men.”
The captain jumped up, knocked over his liquor, and threw on his captain’s coat. He grabbed his fifteen life rafts, one for him and fourteen for backup.
“Good God, Jones—” the captain bellowed.
“It’s Charles, sir.”
“—why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
The captain rushed down to the leak. Floating among the water in the boat was a plank. The captain—with the greatest effort—reached down, grabbed the plank, and tried to plug the leak.
To no avail.
The captain inflated his life raft, took the other fourteen with him, and prepared to jump.
“But, captain, what about us?”
“I’ve done as much as I could, and nobody can blame me,” the captain announced. He left with the rafts and floated toward the oncoming rescue ship, which had just arrived, hours late.
“What a hero,” the sailor said, standing on the sinking ship with tears in his eyes.