“Looks like it was his fault the ships came together,” said Bob Promise.
We had descended to the deck again now. Our upper works were in an awful tangle; but we could do no more at present. The tug was steaming in near to us now and it did not matter if we did drift.
All our eyes were fastened upon the Seamew. She was going down steadily, head-on. Already her bows were being lapped by the waves clear to the butt of the jib-boom.
Mr. Hollister sent another wailing cry across to the second mate at the Seamew’s wheel; but the figure did not move, nor did Alf Barney make any reply.
Suddenly our Mr. Barney left the helm. He just motioned to me, and I grabbed the spokes. He sprang to the rail and held out both his arms to his brother.
“Come! Alf, Alf! Come!”
Then it was that Alfred Barney turned his head and looked across at us. His face, white as his brother’s had been, broke into a frosty smile. He raised one hand and waved it to his twin. And then——
There was a roar of sound, a rush of wind, a yell in chorus from all hands aboard the Gullwing, and the mainmast of the Seamew came rushing down, astern! The great spar had been shaken loose and it fell with all its weight along the deck of the laboring schooner. The topmast broke off and sprang into the air, along with a tangle of steel cable and shredded sails.
And when that topmast struck the deck again it wrecked the Seamew’s wheel and pinioned Mr. Alfred Barney beneath its wreckage!
A general shout of horror arose from the Gullwing; but above it rang the clarion tone of Jim Barney’s voice: