Phil glanced at the gauge glass; there was no water showing. He tried the test-cocks, then looked quickly at the steam gauge.
“The boiler is half full of water, but there is only fifty pounds pressure, and the fires are hauled,” he cried angrily.
“Put back your fire,” he shouted to the fireman, pushing him fiercely toward the furnace, then he started in himself to get the feed pump running.
O’Neil stood by petrified with astonishment at the way he pitched into the intricacies of the machinery.
“The engineer’s a new one, sir,” he whispered to Phil. “I don’t believe he knows much about this kind of engine. The officer of the deck took our regular engineer out and put this man in about an hour ago.”
Phil had been too much occupied trying to find the trouble to grasp the meaning of the coxswain’s words.
He followed up each pipe and made every test he had been taught at Annapolis to use in finding the trouble with these machines.
“We are beaten,” he cried despondently to Sydney, at his wit’s end.
The minutes flew by.
Then he gave a shout of joy, as he saw a tiny steel wedge jammed in between the moving parts of the pump.