ere tossing through some
mysterious agency. There were times when the tall mast-head lights
astern showed not a foot above the rim of that more intense darkness
which marked where the water ended and the horizon began.

Again there were times when the glowing specks seemed to scale the
heights of a sable vacuum. Once a section of the rail went ripping
away in the gloom and once a shredded small boat was torn and hurled
into the waters.

One hour, two hours, three hours, four hours--and still the wild night
went on, and still the _Fledgling_ held to her work. Crampton, the
chief engineer, struggled up from the engine-room at nine o'clock, his
swart face lined and creased.

"She's like an old man dyin'," he said, and his voice quivered. "The
old injines are drivin' as hard and brave as a man with a club; but a
lot of the kick has gone out of them. Nothin' the matter of 'em that I
can see--but just feel. My old injines are feelin' about fur an excuse
to cave in."

"Well, hang on," replied Dan, "and don't tell me what you feel may
happen; I can think up enough things myself."

"Well," and Crampton hesitated. "I didn't come up here fur anythin'
I've said--Cap'n," he added in a low voice; "we're takin' in water."

An imprecation trembled on Dan's lips, and one of his hands left the
wheel in an involuntary gesture of resignation. Then he shut his teeth
tight and talked slowly through them.

"Where the yacht hit us?" he asked.

"Yes, forward; it's opened up a little under the floor plates--about
twenty strokes a minute I should say; the force-pump's kept it level so
far."

"Good," said Dan; "there's nothing else to do but keep it going."

"Nothing," said the chief, and he reeled out of the pitching
pilot-house.

Two, three, four hours more--the water had gained nine inches, so the
chief reported through the speaking-tube. But still the _Fledgling_
held her tow, and Dan and Mulhatton stood silent at the wheel, the rush
of the wind, which had long torn out the double windows, swirling their
hair into their eyes and numbing their torn and bleeding hands. The
elements, as though divining the weakening of the tug,--a tug which
often had laughed them to scorn,--were making mad work of it; there
were strange sounds, unforeseen blows--but still the tug hung on.

There came an hour in which she did not rise to the waves as she had
been doing,--an hour when the leak gained terribly, and when the
_Fledgling_, str