There wasn't any doubt they were in something! A wave of superheated steam seemed to strike the Lucifer simultaneously from all sides. The needle on the tempogauge jerked sharply upward. The pressure oxygen in the bridge grew suddenly warm. Captain Douglas and mate sweat in a trice.
"What's this?" Pete Jackson started from his seat.
"Can't tell what it is," Captain Douglas frowned before the dials. "The tempogauge is going up, but I don't know why."
"Hah!" Pete Jackson's laugh broke queerly. "It couldn't be the hot breath o' Tug Skelly's witches now, could it, Capt'n?"
"Witches be blowed!" Douglas snarled.
"Still," Jackson protested weakly, "it might be a good idea to turn back, even now. That tempo-needle's going up awful fast."
"Hold the course, Mr. Jackson," Douglas said angrily. To execute a slow turning maneuver at this point would be tantamount to suicide! Jackson knew that too, only the mate wasn't using his head any longer. Whatever danger they were in, their best chance was to hold speed and try to slip through the Pass before the blistering heat outside melted down their hull plates.
The mate steadied in his seat.
"Give her everything she'll take," Captain Douglas ordered the engine-room via his speaking-tube. "Everything!"