We hauled the lifeboat up so that the sea would not wash over it, but left our belongings in it, and then hurried below. There was enough steam left in the boilers to swing the ship, stern shoreward, and matters looked well. I hurried to the furnace room, where I found Hiram stripped to the waist, working as if the ship belonged to him. He had wisely selected the four boilers beside which was the most coal, and seemed to forget that his hands were sore and his body all too green for such an effort. I aided him as much as I could and then ran back to the engines, repeating this operation for two hours. I noticed that the lightship off the harbor was gradually growing plainer. The upper part of our propeller blades were exposed because of the ship's nose dip. We were losing a great deal of power due to that fact. Soon we picked up a pilot and in another two hours we slowly made the harbor on less than one leg, and we were through.
"The greatest job ever pulled off! No salvage on this ship or cargo," the captain chuckled, rubbing his hands. "Now, let's go ashore and get some food," he added as cheerfully as would a miser fingering gold. He had not left the wheel house or given an order since we started. However, before we got through washing up Hiram began to droop and was hardly able to walk to a Turkish bath after we got ashore at Norfolk.
He did not improve much, even with a good rub-down after the bath, and I knew it was the hospital for him. Before the doctors got through with his examination he was in a wild delirium and they shook their heads. It was a bad case of exhaustion, and nothing but a strong heart would save him.
CHAPTER VI
The newspapers spread on the wreck story next morning and I read about it while sitting by Hiram Strong's bedside in the hospital. The captain got the glory and credit, although the man, a mere boy, now tossing unconscious on the pillow, was the one to whom all credit belonged. In his delirium he muttered from time to time. Every now and then he would say—"Ben, he was going to let us drown—drown like rats in a trap!"
The nurse gently unbandaged his hands to show me their condition. The palms were cooked—black and seamy—like an overdone roast. But he was now clean, and handsome, his dark, wavy hair mounting high against the white pillow, all trace of dissipation having disappeared from his skin. That was fair and clear, though slightly flushed with fever. The smile hovering about his mouth appeared to be at the point of breaking out into a hearty laugh.
Surely his first attempt at a useful life was not a success, for which I held myself partly to blame. If I had said "no" to the captain's proposal we would have come away like the rest of the crew.
Three days found him much better, and when I came to see him he delighted me with his cheerful manner.