caulked all hatches and gratings forward, and stopped the
ventilators," he said. "I reckon the water will leave the deck long
enough for the pump to give her fore-end some buoyancy. If she rises
with the flood tide, well heave the cables aft, until we can get a hold
that will lift her bow from the ground. Then you can pump out the fore
hold and we'll make a fresh start aft. We'll soon know if Cartwright's
notion is correct."

"We know _now_; I'll satisfy you in the morning," Lister rejoined and
his confidence was not exaggerated.

A steamer's hull below her load-line is pierced in places to admit water
for the condensers and ballast tanks. Lister had found some inlets open,
but now they were shut.

"I'll own old Cartwright's a great man," Brown said thoughtfully. "When
he takes on a job he studies things all round. The salvage folks, no
doubt, reckoned on the possibility that the valves were open, but they
couldn't get at the controls and didn't know all Cartwright knew--" He
paused and added with a laugh: "I wonder how much the other fellows got
for the job! But it's time we started."

Lister got up with an effort and went to the pump, which presently began
to throb. The mended engine ran well and the regular splash of water,
flung out from the big discharge pipe, drowned the languid rumble of the
surf. The hull shook; shadowy figures crossed the beam of light from the
furnace, and vanished in the dark. Twinkling lamps threw broken
reflections on the water that looked like black silk, lightning flashed
in the background, and when the swell broke with phosphorescent sparkles
about the wreck Lister marked the height the pale illumination crept up
her plates. She would not lift that tide, but the pump was clearing the
hold, and he hoped much water was not coming in. If the leakage was not
excessive, her bow ought to rise when the next tide flowed.

For some hours he kept his watch, dragging himself wearily about the
engine and pump. He had helpers, but control was his, and to an engineer
a machine is not a dead mass of metal. Lister, so to speak, felt the
pump had individuality and temperament, like a spirited horse. Sometimes
it must be humored and sometimes urged; it would run faster for a man
whose touch was firm but light than for another. Perhaps he was
fanciful, and he was certainly over-strung, but he imagined the big,
rattling machine knew his hand.

At length when he looked at the gauge glass he found he c