ut the absence of alarms worked against
true vigilance. Profiting by the example of their officers, the little
brown men coiled themselves away in corners and dozed, ready for a
call, truly, but willing to wait for it. Aft, the two officers sat in
their deckhouse, willing enough to watch, but inevitably rendered dull
of sight and sense by the mystery of the night and the quiet peace of
the river.

Once, twice, and again the hawsers twanged, and now they twanged at
will, for with such a stream running it was excusable for even such a
worthy officer as Jerry Rolfe to put something down to natural causes.
And incessantly the rats gnawed, gnawed, and ripped at the wood beneath
them until even that sound helped to soothe instead of alarm.

Then, suddenly leaping to his feet, shaking Bill Blunt furiously as he
arose, the mate stared towards the schooner and cried, with arm flung
out:

"Ain't she moving? Is she--Holy smoke, it's us!"

"We 'm adrift all right, sar," agreed Blunt, scrutinizing the schooner,
which was now close aboard and growing visible.

Both men ran to the lines, Rolfe forward, Blunt aft, and now the mystery
of those twanging hawsers was clear. The ropes hung down into the water,
and the _Barang_ moved on the stream until she was almost rubbing
alongside the schooner, on whose decks men enough were visible now.

"Aboard the _Padang!_" shouted Rolfe. "Catch my lines, will you? We're
adrift."

"Sheer off," came back the answer, and the voice was full of menace.
"Anchor, you no-sailor! Fight your own troubles."

"By Godfrey, I'll fight some o' you, soon's I get fast," roared the
mate furiously, and stumbled to the windlass.

The anchor Vandersee had dropped in midstream in docking the ship was on
a long cable, and the _Barang_ was gliding swiftly down over it. His men
were at hand, but Rolfe needed little time to decide that it would be
quicker to bring up on a fresh anchor than to heave in enough of the
first chain to snub her way. He started to cast off the shank-painter of
the second anchor, when Bill Blunt's hoarse bellow pealed from aft.

"Hey, Mister Rolfe, she's sinkin'!"

It required but one keen glance over the side to prove the fact, and
now, after one staggering moment of unbelief, the truth flashed upon the
mate. The mystery of those gnawing rats, too, was clear.

"You dirty swine!" he screamed at the schooner. "You and your crook of a
skipper'll pay for this!"

He snatched up a traili