Mr Brymer burst into a cheery laugh.
“I don’t think we should sink her by our pumping, Dale. We should get tired first, I’m afraid. Why, my good lad, I don’t know whether my calculation is right, but I should say that half the water you send down there must float up again in steam.”
“Think so, sir?” I shouted, altering the direction of the jet a little, and feeling startled at the consequences, for the shrieking and hissing which followed became deafening.
“I’m sure,” shouted my companion. “Quite below in my calculation. You can keep on, can’t you?”
“Oh yes,” I said.
“That’s right. I couldn’t do it better. Go on; every drop’s telling in extinguishing the fire, or wetting other parts of the cargo so that they will not burn. But what a fiery furnace it is! I had no idea it was so bad.”
“Do you think—” I began.
“Yes—what?”
“That it has burned through to the ship’s bottom?”
“No; and it will not now,” he shouted. “There is so much heat there that an immense body of steam must be rising, and that will help to extinguish the fire.”