gale screamed in
their ears. The machine-gun roar of buckling plates, raking battered
hull, never ceased.

With each crawling minute the men grew more silent, more desperate. Dan
Sullivan let no chance pass to vent his spleen on Larry. Twice during
the day his fellow-stokers, watching the familiar scene, saw the big man
reach the point of crushing the small one; but the ever-expected blow
did not fall.

Shortly after midnight the first hope came to the exhausted men that
their fight might not be in vain. Though the buckling plates still
thundered, though the floor under their feet still pitched at crazy
angles, there was a "feel" in the fire-room that ribs and beams and
rivets were not so near the breaking-point.

Neville came to the end of the passage.

"The hurricane's blowing itself to death," he shouted. "Stick to it,
boys, for an hour longer; the second watch can reach us by then."

The hour passed, but no relief came. The wind had lost some force, but
the seas still broke over the bows, pouring tons of water to the deck.
The vessel pitched as high, rolled as deep, as before.

As the men fired their boilers they rested the filled scoops on the
floor and waited for the ship to roll down. Then a quick jerk of the
fire-door chain, a quick heave of the shovel, and the door was snapped
shut before the floor rolled up again. Making one of these hurried
passes, Larry swayed on tired legs. He managed the toss and was able to
close the door before he fell hard against Dan. His sullen enemy
instantly launched a new tirade, fiercer, more blasphemous, than any
before. He ended a stream of oaths, and rested the scoop ready for his
throw.

"I'll learn yuh, yuh snivelin'--" The ship rolled deep. Dan jerked the
fire-door open--"yuh snivelin' shrimp!" He glared at Larry as he made
the pass. He missed the opening. His shovel struck hard against the
boiler front. The jar knocked Dan to the floor, pitched that moment at
its steepest angle. He clutched desperately to gain a hold on the
smooth-worn steel plates, his face distorted by fear as he slid down to
the fire.

Larry, crying a shrill warning, sprang between Sullivan and the open
furnace. He stooped, and with all the strength he could gather shoved
the big stoker from danger. Then above the crashing sounds a shriek tore
the steam-clouded air of the fire-room. Larry had fallen!

As his feet struck the ash-door, the ship rolled up. A cascade falling
from Dan's fire had