In the engine-room was a huge generator, which was worked by powerful springs, its current running to the deck motor, to which the driving screws were geared.
The current also illuminated numerous incandescent lamps, and worked several fan motors in each of the rooms.
Frank explained everything to the Mexican.
He then told Zamora to turn in, as he would have to go on watch at two in the morning.
While he was speaking, Frank heard a distant yell in Pomp’s voice, and hastened up forward.
“Stop dat, chile! Stop dat!” he heard Pomp howl wildly.
“Be heavens!” chuckled Barney’s voice; “I’d be afther takin’ a batin’ first. Biff, ye divil, take that now!”
“Ouch! my eye!” yelled the coon. “Fo’ de Lor’ sakes, yo’ want to kill me wif dat bean-shooter?”
“Ha, ha, ha!” shouted the Irishman, gleefully. “It’s dook-shot I’m peggin’ at ye now, but it’s nothin’ less nor a cannon ball wud make a dent in that bullet-proof head you are wearin’.”
Following this remark came a violent rattle of shot which flew from his bean-shooter, some of which hit Pomp and made him swear like a trooper.