With the litheness of a cat he sprang violently forward, struck the captain's wrist that held the gun, and the immense revolver dropped to the deck with a thud. Strong quickly kicked it overboard with the same agility.
"Captain, I was just going to say that you seemed to handle that gun awkwardly and I feared it might go off accidentally," he said, as he jumped back beyond reach. The captain's florid, lumpy face now ran scarlet, his eyes glaring like those of an old dog in futile rage. He swallowed hard but could not articulate.
"You allowed the passengers and crew to leave, but left the firemen down in that hell hole to drown like rats. We are inclined to hold that against you, captain," said Strong, quietly enough. "There is one boat left and we are going along, too," he said, turning to me as I edged over toward the boat.
"Didn't I stay?" the captain was finally able to say in a shaky voice, with some trace of a plea.
"Yes, you stayed, because you would be put down for a coward if you hadn't, and if there is any profit or glory you get it. I've traveled on ships before when I wasn't firing," Strong replied forcefully, but with no trace of anger, coming over to where I was engaged in placing our baggage in the lifeboat.
"But we can save the ship if you'll help—I'm willing to pay you extra if you'll stay," said the captain, pleading outright now.
"Well, that sounds different—how much will you give us to stay and take chances?" Strong asked quickly, assuming a bargaining attitude, but still assisting me to lower the boat.
"Why, I'll—I'll give you fifty dollars apiece," he offered, as though making a tremendous sacrifice.
"Fifty dollars don't look good to me—how about it, Ben?" he asked, as we halted the boat a few feet from the water. "The news headlines will state that the captain went down with the ship, but two firemen drowning with him wouldn't be worth an agate line."