CHAPTER V
Hiram Strong, Jr., amazed me. Surely this was an outcropping of the Gold-Beater's blood. He may not ever be a Gold-Beater as the term was applied to his male parent, but he was destined to be a gold-getter, for he displayed evidence of that trait when he stood there actually dickering with the captain for a sum beyond a month's wages as a fireman.
The seas breaking over the sunken bow of the vessel, and a cargo in the hold worth at least a million and a half, he had only the captain's word that the ship would not sink at any moment. However, he saw by my attitude that I also thought that the wreck could be salvaged.
And he also saw that the ship was wallowing in the trough of the sea, while the lifeboat was near the water on the lea side, and he knew that I could handle it.
"You see, captain, we have only your word that she isn't going to sink, and we have lost confidence in you. You left us three stories down there to drown like rats. You got everybody else off and never thought of your firemen."
"I couldn't think of everything, and I tell you she is not going to sink," shouted the captain, coming closer and pounding the rail with his big fat hand. "I've got to get her to anchorage or on the beach, and you've got to help. Fifty dollars is enough; that's nearly a month's wages," he added, trying to avoid his usual overbearing.
"Why did you let the crew go?" Hiram shot at him.
"I didn't know the for'd bulkhead was holding then. You know if the for'd head holds she can't sink," he said vehemently, appealing to me this time. But before I could answer Hiram was after him again.
"And you left us to drown! Our lives are just as valuable to us as any of the rest of the crew, and maybe more than some of them," he said, looking meaningly at the captain, who squirmed visibly, now realizing that we were not ordinary firemen.