run
from Jupiter," Neville answered, and went back to his engine.

During the next hour no one on deck had to tell these men, toiling far
below the water-line, that wind and sea had risen. They had warnings
enough. Within their steel-incased quarters every bolt and rivet sounded
the overstrain forced upon it. In the engine-room the oiler could no
longer move from the throttle. Every few minutes now, despite his
watchfulness, a jarring shiver spread through the hull as the propeller,
thrown high, raced wildly in mid-air before he could shut off steam.

At eleven-thirty the indicator clanged, and its arrow jumped to
half-speed ahead. A moment later the men below decks "felt the rudder"
as the _San Gardo_, abandoning further attempts to hold her course,
swung about to meet the seas head on.

Eight bells--midnight--struck, marking the end of the shift; but no one
came down the ladders to relieve Neville's watch. The growls of the
tired men rose above the noise in the fire-room. Again Neville came
through the passage.

"The tube to the bridge is out of commission," he called, "but I can
raise the chief. He says no man can live on deck; one's gone overboard
already. The second watch can't get out of the forecastle. It's up to
us, men, to keep this ship afloat, and steam's the only thing that'll do
it."

For the next hour and the next the fire-room force and the two men in
the engine-room stuck doggedly to their work. They knew that the _San
Gardo_ was making a desperate struggle, that it was touch and go whether
the ship would live out the hurricane or sink to the bottom. They knew
also, to the last man of them, that if for a moment the ship fell off
broadside to the seas, the giant waves would roll her over and over like
an empty barrel in a mill-race. The groaning of every rib and plate in
the hull, the crash of seas against the sides, the thunder of waves
breaking on deck, drowned the usual noises below.

The color of the men's courage began to show. Some kept grimly at their
work, dumb from fear. Others covered fright with profanity, cursing the
storm, the ship, their mates, cursing themselves. Larry, as he threw
coal steadily through his fire-doors, hummed a broken tune. He gave no
heed to Dan, who grew more savage as the slow hours of overtoil dragged
by.

About four in the morning Neville called Larry to the engine-room. On
his return Dan blazed out at him:

"Boot-lickin' Neville ag'in, was you? I'd lay you o