An hour later the second batch of volunteers descended, and replaced the first, but Hal and Mr. Brindle remained at work.
All day long the two parties took it in turns to labor in the coal-bunker, and when night came, Hal was able to dismiss his gang, and inform Mr. Broom that the task was finished.
"Good!" exclaimed the latter. "Your fellows have worked like bricks, and have well earned a sleep. You, too, had better get one. Cut along up to your bunk, and leave this to me. I'm used to long hours, and will keep watch below. The Mohican is steering now. That sea-anchor is overboard, and we're able to keep fairly clear of water. Now, off you go."
He waved to the ladder, and Hal at once took his advice. He was, indeed, worn out with his labors, for all day long he had shoveled coal, till the skin was worn off his hands. Accordingly, he did not argue with the "third," but, going to the ladder, climbed to the alleyway. He went to a locker, and finding the remains of a loaf, tore a portion off, and went, munching it, to his bunk. Less than five minutes later he was so sound asleep that he would have slept the clock round had not a violent thirst from the coal-dust he had inhaled caused him to leave his bed in search of something to drink.
CHAPTER V
NO REST FOR THE WEARY
An uncouth object Hal looked as he left his bunk and sought something with which to quench his thirst.
He went to a filter which was kept near the stairway leading to the saloon. It was full, and he took a long and satisfying drink. That done, he returned to the alleyway, where he stopped and looked out.
"Good!" he exclaimed. "The sea is falling, and there is scarcely any wind. That gives the Mohican a better chance. But Mr. Broom will be wanting me."