l," answered a man on the steamer's bridge. "What are you holding me
up for?"

"Oil," answered Forsythe. "How is it stowed--in cases, or in bulk?"

"In bulk, you doggoned fool."

"Very good. We want some of that oil."

"You do, hey? Who are you? You look like that runaway destroyer I've
heard so much about. Who's going to recompense the company for the oil
you want? Hey? Where do I come in? Who pays the bill?"

"Send it to the United States Government, or send it to the devil. Pass
a hose over the side, and dip your end into the tank."

"Suppose I say no?"

"Then we'll send a few shells into your water line."

"Is that straight? Are you pirates that would sink a working craft?"

"As far as you are concerned we are. Pass over your hose, and stop
talking about it. All we want is a little oil."

"Will you give me a written receipt?"

"Of course. Name your bill. We'll toss it up on a drift bolt. Pass over
the hose."

"All right. Hook on your own reducer and suck it full with your pump;
then it will siphon down."

"Got reducers, Sampson?"

"Got several. Guess we can start the flow."

The two craft drew close together, a hose was flung from the tanker to
the destroyer, and the four machinists worked for a while with wrenches
and pump fittings until the connection was made; then they started the
pump, filled the hose, and, disconnecting, dropped their end into the
tanks.

The oil, by the force of gravity, flowed from one craft to the other
until the gauges showed a full supply. Then a written receipt for one
hundred and twenty-five tons of oil was signed by the leaders, tied to a
piece of iron, and tossed aboard the tanker, and the two craft
separated, the pirate heading south, as Denman could see by the
telltale.

Denman, his wounded scalp easier, lay down in his berth and smoked while
he thought out his plans. Obviously the men were pirates, fully
committed; they would probably repeat the performance; and as obviously
they would surely be caught in time. There was nothing that he could do,
except to heal his wound and wait.

He could not even assist Miss Florrie, no matter what peril might menace
her; then, as he remembered a bunch of duplicate keys given him when he
joined as executive officer, he thought that perhaps he might. They were
in his desk, and, rolling out, he secured them.

He tried them in turn on his door lock, and finally found the one that
fitted. This he took off the ring and secure