“Want any help, Dale?”
“No, sir.”
“Steam too much for you?”
“No, sir; all right. I’ll call if I want help.”
The pump clanked steadily on, and without any more than a half-stoppage as they made a change for resting, and I kept on searching out the hottest places by following up the loudest hissing and sputtering of the water as it changed into steam, and rose and floated upward till I thought that if the mutineers were able to see it, they would conclude that the ship was burning right away to the water’s edge, for the steam, as it floated up in that huge volume, would have all the appearance of smoke.
Then I started, for from close behind me came Mr Brymer’s voice—
“How are you getting on, my lad?”
“I don’t know; I can’t see.”
“No, but I can. Capitally,” he cried. “There must be a tremendous body of fire down below; far more than I thought.”
“But is there any fear of our pumping too much down and sinking the ship after all?”