Like the pounce of lightning the creature struck. One instant it was upreared before Pratt, the next its fatal helix enclosed the man. He staggered, screamed once, a howl of sheer animal pain that struck Kort like a whip across the face. It was Hodge who restrained him from tackling the thing with fists and knife. "Too late!" the older man said grimly. "No use throwing yourself after him." There was no sound from Pratt now. In ghastly silence the sea creature had settled down with him, his body rigid in its coiled grip, protruding eyes mirroring agony, yet already glazed with approaching death, his face slowly turning the purple of asphyxiation. Once more the gun blasted before it fell from twitching fingers. To the watchers it seemed an age before the tortured body at last went limp. "Time the captain heard about this!" growled Hodge, "Although it ain't likely to do any good." His iron grip aroused Kort from the stupefaction of horror into which the sight of Pratt's death had plunged him. Together they went forward, giving the monsters a wide berth, past the cannery deck where most of the deck crew were gathered, to the captain's cabin. One glimpse of the master told Kort no help might be expected from him. Spale's huge body overflowed the bunk; he was more stupefied than asleep. The cabin reeked of liquor. Hodge slammed the door on it. "Might've known it," he grumbled. "He won't be good for thirty hours, like that. We're putting back to port, catch or no catch." They reached the forward wheelhouse from below deck, leaving the one aft in possession of the sea monsters. Hodge pushed over the engine room telegraph. At the wheel, Kort awaited the first throb of propellers to drive the ship ahead. For a moment there was no movement but the slow roll of the _Mermaid_ in the trough of the waves. Then the interphone crackled. "Wellson, engine room. We have no pressure on the boilers down here. Chief Starr has gone aft to see about it. I can give you quarter speed for a few minutes." "Quarter speed!" barked Hodge. The vessel trembled to the surge of the screws, forged slowly ahead. That moment too came the first of the wind. Kort found his hands full keeping the ship on course in the face of it. Once he looked aft, just in time to see the last trunk vanish from atop the aft pilot house. It did not plunge overboard, but faded from sight as abruptly as a projected image when the light is snapped off. Briefly grateful that the things had gone, he bent all efforts to keeping the _Mermaid_ on course in the face of freshening wind. Through the deck he could feel the whine of turbines inexorably slowing down. "No steerageway, sir," he said finally, as the ship yawed. Hodge rang the interphone savagely, without result. "Better see what's wrong," he told Kort. "Wait--take this."