“It is impossible to say. We are trying to find out now. I need not tell you it is your duty to stay at that key till the last boat leaves the ship.”
“You need not tell me that, sir,” said Jack, flushing proudly. “I’d go down with her if it would do any good.”
The captain looked oddly at the boy a moment and then slapped him hard upon the back.
“You’ve the right stuff in you, Ready,” he said and hurried off again.
The ship was still slowly backing. Presently Jack heard the mate’s big voice booming out from forward.
“She’s flooded to the bow bulkhead, sir, but so far as I can see, there’s no immediate danger. When daylight comes, we may be able to patch her up.”
This was hopeful news, and a cheer arose from the men as they heard it. But mingled with the cheer came another sound—a muffled roar like that of wild animals or of an enraged mob.
What it meant flashed across Jack in a jiffy.
The firemen, The Black Squad, as they were called! They had mutinied against being penned in the fire-room on a sinking ship and were rushing to the deck.
Without knowing just what he was doing, the boy took his revolver out of the drawer where he kept it and rushed outside. The first thing he saw under the glow of the lights was the figure of Raynor.