e picked it up and relit it. He hurried out again to find
the engineer. His training was urging him to get the wells sounded.
Moreover, the filling of the forepeak through the smashed chain-locker
had put the ship down by the head a little. She might be all right, but
on the other hand....

He found the engineer calmly hauling the line out of the forward
sounding pipes.

"Is she making anything, Chief?" he asked anxiously.

"Just show a light please, Mister Mate. I got a flashlight here but it's
gone out on me. Why, four inches. Nothing much _here_. We'll try the
other side, eh?"

They scrambled over the hatch and hastily wiped the rod dry before
lowering it into the pipe.

"Hm!" The engineer grunted as he brought the rod into view again.
"_Three feet!_ I reckon she's makin' some water here through that
bulkhead, Mister Mate. What say if I try the pumps on her, eh?"

"You do that, will you? I was afraid o' that, Chief. You know the
bosun's gone?"

"Is that so? Gee! That's a big smash! The bosun? Tk--tk! I'll get the
pump on her."

"Now!" said Mr. Spokesly to himself, "I'm going to see the Old Man." And
he sprang up the ladders once more.

Captain Rannie was not to be seen, however. Mr. Spokesly went upon the
bridge charged with belligerence. But Captain Rannie was an old hand. He
had had an extraordinarily varied experience of exasperated subordinates
and Mr. Spokesly's conscientious tantrums worried him not at all.
Especially did he fail to appreciate the significance of his chief
officer's anxiety at this moment since from his own point of view this
smash in the fog, supposing they did not meet any inquisitive craft for
an hour or two, and this was not at all likely--this smash was a piece
of singular good fortune. The cruiser would report ramming a small
vessel in the fog, and the people in Saloniki, knowing the position of
the _Kalkis_, would conclude she was lost with all hands, when she
failed to appear at Phyros. It was so perfectly in accordance with his
desires that he decided to run down and get one of his own special
cigarettes. Now that he was actually in the middle of carrying out the
plans of the owner of the _Kalkis_, Captain Rannie suffered from none of
the timidity and truculent nervousness which had assailed him the day
before. He had more courage than Mr. Spokesly would ever admit because
that gentleman was not aware that his captain was a bad navigator. To
the bad navigator every voyage i