The tugs, whistling and panting around her, got their lines on the after bitts and pulled and shouldered and struggled noisily. But by the time they got her under way, the crew of the _Sachsen_, alarmed by the screams of the stewardess, were already diving overboard, and Lieutenant Moore’s men were retiring from a blaze that seemed to spit back their streams on them in spurts of steam. Moore ordered Farley to go below decks and warn Captain Keighley and the squad in the hold. Farley glanced at his fellows; they were all partisans of the captain; they had been chafing under Moore’s attacks on him, and they were contemptuous of the lieutenant for the way in which he had mishandled the pierhouse blaze. Moreover, there were only four of them to two lines of hose; and the one unnecessary man there, as they saw the situation, was Moore. Let him go himself. The lieutenant repeated his orders. Farley sulkily remained where he was. And--what with “Jiggers” and “Anti-Jiggers,” the influence of the fire commissioner who was a “Jigger” and the influence of the chief who was not, the party of Captain Keighley and the followers of Lieutenant Moore--discipline on the _Hudson_ had come to such a pass that Moore had no redress against a subordinate who refused to obey his orders. “All right,” he threatened. “I’ll see to _you_, too!” and turned to run for the hatch. The men grinned. The _Hudson_, trying to bring its monitor to bear on the burning woodwork of the _Sachsen_, shot a terrific stream, roaring and threshing, close to their heads. Farley said: “That darn fool’ll be sweepin’ us off here in a minute. We’d better get inside out o’ this an’ help in _there_.” They retreated aft for shelter, dragging their hose; and by doing so they left the forward deck to the flames that were blown over the _Sachsen_ by a steady breeze. [Illustration: _“All right,” he threatened. “I’ll see to you, too!”_ See page 18] II Meanwhile, Lieutenant Moore had found Captain Keighley and the “Jiggers,” with their two lines, working busily in the choke of cotton smoke in the deep hold, playing one pipe on the heart of the fire and with the other sprinkling the bales around it. And Captain Keighley, with his helmet awry on his head and a smile of contempt slanting his mouth, feeling the _Hudson’s_ eight pumps behind him, was playing a game with that fire, happily. The screeches of the stewardess and the flight of the ship’s crew had not alarmed him. He was used to the sight of blind fright; he saw the flames before him confined and beaten back; and he knew that for any fire that might develop behind him, the _Hudson_ was a park of cannon drawn up in reserve. It did not occur to him that the _Hudson_, drawn up under the high side of the _Sachsen_, was a park of cannon in a hole in the ground.