“Yes; broken clean off.”
“Where?”
The captain of the steamer smiled, for he saw no need of such a question, since he considered the damage irremediable.
“Quite a distance from the screw, and it’s a curious fracture. Would you like to look at it?”
“I would, indeed. You see, we have got considerable out of our course––being too far west––and we shall make a pretty sharp turn to the south, toward Honolulu.”
“I am debating whether to go there, turn back to San Francisco, or keep on under sail to Tokio.”
“This is my mate, Abram Storms, from Enfield, Connecticut,” said Captain Bergen, introducing the two. “I bring him along because he is the most ingenious man ever turned out by that home of ingenuity; and when I saw that something was the matter with you, I came alongside, more because I believed 20 he could help you, than in the expectation that I could be of any service.”
“Captain Bergen does me too much honor,” protested the stoop-shouldered New Englander, who, had there been more of daylight, would have been seen to blush under the compliment.
“I have no doubt he speaks the truth,” replied Captain Strathmore, leading the way below to where the broken shaft rested motionless; “but this trouble is too much like a broken neck for any surgery to help.”
A minute later, a group of half a dozen stood about and stooped over the broken shaft, and examined it by the aid of lanterns, the chief engineer showing a more courteous spirit than is usual under such circumstances.