“Quick! Draw the fire under number three! She’s almost out of water!” he yelled.
No need was there to tell the firemen that a boiler out of water, with a roaring fire underneath, would soon explode, probably foundering the ship, and while one leaped and threw open the door to the fire box, the assistant and the others seized long-handled iron rakes and pokers and pulled the seething mass of burning coal out onto the iron floor.
Terrific before, as the boiler room was transformed into a glowing inferno, the heat became unbearable, and first one and then another of the firemen staggered back, gasping.
“Get back on the job! The fire isn’t half out!” bellowed Mr. Morris, snatching a rake and springing to the task.
Inspired by their chiefs example, the men obeyed, only to fall back again.
“Above, there!” yelled the captain, going to the foot of the ladder, and as a face appeared at the hatch, he continued: “Call the off watch. Tell the second mate to form a bucket line and pass water down here. On the jump—if you don’t want to be blown to glory!”
Gathering about the door of the bunkers, the coal passers stood, talking in whispers, then suddenly they rushed for the ladder.
Captain Perkins heard the patter of their feet and, divining their purpose, grabbed a bar, beat them to the ladder, faced them and swung the bar, shouting:
“Back into your bunkers and load your barrows!”
The men, with sullen snarls, refused to obey, however, and several of them were sneaking to the back of the ladder, when from above a pail of water was dashed onto their heads.