was no answer. Thrice he repeated the call, and
thrice the dismal thrashing of the spanker boom and the flapping of
the sails was the only answer. Kitchell turned to Wilbur in triumph. "I
guess she's ours," he whispered. They were now close enough to make out
the bark's name upon her counter, "Lady Letty," and Wilbur was in
the act of reading it aloud, when a huge brown dorsal fin, like the
triangular sail of a lugger, cut the water between the dory and the
bark.

"Shark!" said Kitchell; "and there's another!" he exclaimed in the next
instant, "and another! Strike me, the water's alive with 'em'! There's
a stiff on the bark, you can lay to that"; and at that, acting on some
strange impulse, he called again, "Bark ahoy!" There was no response.

The dory was now well up to the derelict, and pretty soon a prolonged
and vibratory hissing noise, strident, insistent, smote upon their ears.

"What's that?" exclaimed Wilbur, perplexed. The Captain shook his
head, and just then, as the bark rolled almost to her scuppers in their
direction, a glimpse of the deck was presented to their view. It was
only a glimpse, gone on the instant, as the bark rolled back to port,
but it was time enough for Wilbur and the Captain to note the parted
and open seams and the deck bulging, and in one corner blown up and
splintered.

The captain smote a thigh.

"Coal!" he cried. "Anthracite coal. The coal he't up and generated gas,
of course--no fire, y'understand, just gas--gas blew up the deck--no way
of stopping combustion. Naturally they had to cut for it. Smell the gas,
can't you? No wonder she's hissing--no wonder she rolled--cargo goes
off in gas--and what's to weigh her down? I was wondering what could 'a'
wrecked her in this weather. Lord, it's as plain as Billy-b'damn."

The dory was alongside. Kitchell watched his chance, and as the bark
rolled down caught the mainyard-brace hanging in a bight over the
rail and swung himself to the deck. "Look sharp!" he called, as Wilbur
followed. "It won't do for you to fall among them shark, son. Just look
at the hundreds of 'em. There's a stiff on board, sure."

Wilbur steadied himself on the swaying broken deck, choking against the
reek of coal-gas that hissed upward on every hand. The heat was almost
like a furnace. Everything metal was intolerable to the touch.

"She's abandoned, sure," muttered the Captain. "Look," and he pointed
to the empty chocks on the house and the severed lashings. "O