r's threshing bow was a fisherman's Hampton
boat, disclosed as the fog drifted.

The passenger-steamer gave forth a half-dozen "woofs" from her whistle,
answering the freighter's staccato warning, but gave no signs of
slowing. But that they were making an attempt to dodge the mite in their
path was made known by a shout from their lookout and his shrill call:
"Port! Hard over!"

The fisherman had all the alertness of his kind, trained by dangers and
ever-present prospect of mischance to grab at desperate measures.
He leaped forward and pulled out his mast and tossed mast and sail
overboard.

He knew that he must encounter the tremendous wash and wake of the
rushing hull. His shell of a boat, if made topheavy by the sail, would
stand small show.

"He's a goner!" gasped Captain Wass. "She's a-going to tramp him plumb
underfoot--unless she's going to get up a little more speed and jump
over him!" he added, moved to bitter sarcasm.

They saw the little boat go into eclipse behind the black prow, the
first lift of the churning waters flipping the cockleshell as a coin
is snapped by the thumb. The fisherman was not in view--he had thrown
himself flat in the bottom of his boat.

"He's under for keeps," stated the skipper, with conviction. "If her
bilge-keel doesn't cooper him, her port propeller will!"

So rapidly was the liner moving, so abrupt her swoop to the right, that
she leaned far over and showed them the red of her huge bilge. Her high
speed enabled her to make an especially quick turn. As they gaped,
her two stacks swung almost into line. Her shearing bow menaced the
_Nequasset_.

"The condemned old hellion is going to nail _us_, now!" bellowed Captain
Wass. In his panic and his fury he leaped up and down, pulling at the
whistle-cord.

She was almost upon them--only a few hundred yards of gray water
separated the two steamers.

She was the _Triton!_

Her name was disclosed on her bow. Her red hawse-holes showed like
glowering and savage eyes. There was indescribably brutal threat in this
sudden dart in their direction. It was as if a sea monster had swallowed
an insect in the shape of a Hampton boat and now sought a real mouthful.
But her great rudder swung to the quick pull of her steam steering-gear
and again she sheered, cutting a letter s. The movement brought her past
the stern of the _Nequasset_, a biscuit-toss away. The mighty surge of
her roaring passage lifted the freighter's bulk aft, and the