A hole had been cut in the hatch below, and a denser smoke rose from it. There was nothing to do now but wait for the six-inch line to drown out the smolder; and Cripps and “Shine” waited, standing with their pipe.
“Watch that ladder,” “Shine” whispered. “Doherty’ll be tryin’ to make his sneak while its thick up here.”
A moment later, he yelled suddenly: “Yah!” And dropping his pipe, he ran to fling himself on Doherty as the ex-fireman leaped out of the smoke. They rolled together on the deck.
“Hold that man,” the chief ordered, as the crew tore the fighting “Shine” from his enemy. They lifted Doherty to his feet and backed him against the winch. “The police’ll want him for interfering with firemen in the discharge of their duties.” He turned to the four “Jiggers.” “I want you men to appear in court against him, understand?... That’ll do you,” he said to “Shine.” “Go back to your place.”
“Shine” went back to his place, licking his lips, with a venomous grin.
The rest of the fire was merely an affair of “standing fast” while the six-inch line flooded the hold; and in half an hour “the job” was done. The German first officer and his men took charge of Doherty and agreed to turn him over to the police as soon as their boat tied up to the pier; and to them was left the work, too, of returning the wild animals to their cages. The firemen were free to pick up their lines and return to the Hudson, chaffing “Shine.”
“That’s all right,” he swaggered. “I’m a li’n-tamer, all right, all right.”
“Yuh’re not much on polar bears,” they told him.
He retorted delicately, “Yuh can’t train a brute that’s got no sense. Polar bears are like youse guys. They’re holler in the cocoa.”
“It was you that did the hollerin’.”