As they descended the ladder into the engine room, they gasped at the heat, while the smell of oil almost sickened them and the clang of the engines made their heads throb.
In and out among the fast-moving machinery men, shirtless, their faces glistening with perspiration, crawled, long-nosed oil-cans in hand, from which they deftly poured the lubricant upon this or that joint or bearing or wiped a rod with waste.
“I don’t see what keeps them from being ground to pieces,” exclaimed Phil, when they had stood for several minutes, fascinated by the sight.
“Experience,” replied the captain, “but you can get an idea how necessary it is to have oilers who know their business.”
“How often do they crawl around that way?” inquired Ted.
“All the time, practically. Some bearings use more oil than others, and if one gets dry, it will weld and cause trouble.”
“But don’t they ever sleep?”
“Oh, yes. We have two shifts, you know. Each one works six hours and then rests six hours.
“Ah, here comes Mr. Morris, the chief engineer.” And after introducing the boys, the captain asked: “Men working all right?”
“All but one, Swanson. I’ve had to follow him round.”