d Barry. "D' you mean these are all useless?"

"P'raps not quite useless, Cap'n, but they ain't no blessed good, an' I
bet my head on that. See, if you drives all them plugs well through her,
and they sticks out good an' proper outside, it ain't so hard to grope
around under the mud an' grab a holt on 'em. Then 'tain't very hard,
genelmen, to paddle away a bit o' mud about each bunch o' plugs, an'
when that's done, 'tis about all done. I'll lash a wire to them long
plugs, and stretch her right along th' ship. That keeps them plugs in,
don't it? an' it's some'at to hang short lines to, ain't it? Werry well
then; say we has a hundred or two hundred short lines bent on to that
wire, genelmen, an' on each short line is a hempty drum, bunged up
tight--"

"And at dead low water next tide we fasten those drums down short, the
tide 'll help raise her, hey?" finished Barry, persuaded that it might
be done. "But how about the other side?"

"She don't matter, sir," the old fellow asserted. "We got plenty o' time
afore next tide. Plenty o' time to cut fresh plugs an' git lines ready.
Then when tide rises again, them drums 'll roll her over if they won't
lift her. Ain't it easy then to get at them leaks? Better'n layin' her
ashore somewheres fer caulking, if yuh don't know this yer river very
well."

Barry needed but one minute to see how infinitely better was the old
sailor's plan than the one he had formed himself. Merely to raise the
vessel and then to lay her on the alongshore flats to stop the leaks,
left a serious loophole for the swift escape of the schooner; but the
simple scheme of Bill Blunt left the _Barang_ in her blockading position
until she was fit to move anywhere under her own sail power.

The river rose rapidly after half-tide, and it had reached full height
by the time the fresh plugs were ready and the wire and short lines
prepared. Evening fell, too, before the stream turned again, and the
hands rested against the time when Gordon and Little could get down to
driving in the plugs.

Then the work was resumed with feverish haste, for much small detail in
the dim light took plenty of time. The old brigantine rang and rumbled
to the thumps of hammers below, sometimes ringing clearly until the
hammers struck beneath the water, then sounding dull and soggy as iron
met wet wood. Over the side Blunt hung on to a line and felt for the
outer ends of the plugs with his bare prehensile toes; then, lowering
himself st