ry of what he did right there on the
hose, and wrote it plain. They've got the piece at the office, and
they'll show it to you if you ask 'em. Seaman made his cut with about
two men's strength; I'll bet not one of you boys could do near as well
as he did at cutting a hose through with one stroke. His slash came
clear through all but a shaving of rubber, and he tried to cut that with
a second stroke; but the knife struck a new place about an inch away,
and he slashed her half through there. Then he tried nine times more,
and made nine separate cuts at the hose; and there they are to-day,
about half an inch apart, each one a little shallower than the one
before, and the last two or three only scratches on the outside. That
was just as he died, and you can figure out how long it prob'bly took
him to make those eleven knife strokes. I suppose there ought to be
thirteen, but eleven's what there is. You'll count 'em."

Not only did I count them, these eleven tragic cuts, but I have the
piece of hose to this day. The office people gave it to me, and never do
I look but with a shiver at this dumb record in diminuendo of agony and
sacrifice.

"I suppose that settled the question of stopping a hose with your
thumb?" I remarked.

"That's what it did!" said Atkinson.

After this there were more stories. I can't begin to say how many more.
Every time a diver goes down, one would say, something new happens to
him, something worth telling about. Hansen related an experience of his
with a conger eel. Atkinson told how a Dock Department diver named
Fairchild was blown to death under forty feet of water when twenty-eight
pounds of dynamite he was putting in for blasting went off too soon.
Timmans told how he fainted away once, one hundred and five feet down,
and another time let the water into his suit by pulling out a helmet lug
on a foolish wager. And that reminded Atkinson of the time his gasket
(the rubber joint under the collar) was cut through by the slam of an
iron ladder, and the air went out "Hooo," and a quick jerk on the
life-line was all that saved him. Last of all they told the story of old
Captain Conkling and the Holyoke Dam, a story known to every diver. It
seems there was a leak in this dam, and the water was rushing through
with so strong a suction that it seemed certain death for a diver to go
near enough to stop the leak. Yet it was extremely important that the
leak be stopped--in fact, the saving of the dam depen