"I must have fallen asleep for a second, an' was awakened by bein' knocked down," Jim said penitently.
At that instant a dark figure could be seen coming from the engine-room, and a faint voice cried:
"One of the boiler-tubes blew out when we struck the rock. Somebody must help draw the fires, for I'm burned pretty bad about the arms and face."
"Struck a rock?" Bob shouted fiercely, as he made his way toward Joe, who had retreated aft to free his lungs of the deadly vapor. "Are we aground, Jim?"
"Not that I know of," the young fisherman replied in a tone of bewilderment. "My eyes couldn't have been shut more'n a minute; an' there was nothin' in sight when I closed 'em."
"Get out the lead-line while I see if Joe is hurt very much."
The steam was yet pouring from the engine-room in such volumes as to prevent a view from either side, and Jim groped his way to the brig, Walter following close at his heels like one dazed. Master Libby remembered having seen the lead-line under the port rail forward, and but a short search was necessary to find it. Fully expecting they were yet in deep water, he reeled off twenty fathoms or more before casting, and to his surprise the greater portion remained on the rail instead of slipping through his fingers.
"Why, we're—we're on a shoal!" he stammered as he pulled in the cord until the weight could be felt. "There isn't much more than two fathoms out."
"An' as the brig don't draw less'n fourteen or fifteen feet, we can count on your havin' slept pretty nigh through the whole watch!" Bob said sharply.
Jim made no reply. He realized now that his eyes must have been closed many minutes instead of one, and was well aware that all which had happened was the result of his own carelessness.