"I told you we would if you insisted on keeping up such a speed," angrily replied the other.
Beside himself with rage Barr picked up a heavy belaying pin to which, the signal halyards had been attached and struck the man before him a terrible blow with it.
Fortunately for his intended victim—for Barr in his rage would not have cared had he killed him—he ducked just in time and the blow was a glancing one. The man came at him like a tiger, but Barr, quick as a flash, slid his hand into his coat pocket.
"If you advance a step nearer I'll blow your brains out," he said coldly.
There was a glitter in his eyes that showed he meant what he said and with a muttered:
"I'll get even with you, Barr, as sure as my name is Al Davis," the late captain of the Brigand left the bridge.
Barr's active mind was at work at once planning schemes to get the ivory off immediately. Accustomed to crises of all kinds, the recent scene with the man Davis hadn't even warmed his chilly blood.
Calling the engineer he ordered an immediate inspection to be made. The result was discouraging. The Brigand lay with her bow hard and fast on a low sunken reef and while there was no apparent leak the chief engineer shook his head at the vessel's plight.
That there was grave danger was evidenced a short while after when the fire-room force—which had been ordered to keep steam up in the hope of backing the ship off later—came pouring on deck crying that there was three feet of water in the fire-room.
"That settles it," said the chief. "We are on a doomed ship."