The report of Neville's revolver was lost in the noise; but the bullet, purposely sent high, spattered against the steel plate above Dan's head. He looked down. Neville, swaying with the pitching floor, was aiming true for his second shot. Cursing at the top of his voice, Dan scrambled down the ladder, pushing the men below him to the floor. "Back to your boilers!" Neville ordered; but the stokers, huddled in a frightened group, refused to leave the ladder. It was only a matter of seconds now before the fires would be drenched. Bilge-water was splashing against the under boiler-plates, filling the room with dense steam. Neville left the men and raced for the engine-room. He found Larry and the oiler working desperately at the valve-wheel of the circulating pump. Neville grasped the wheel, and gave the best he had to open the valve. This manifold, connecting the pump with the bilges, was intended only for emergency use. It had not been opened for months, and was now rusted tight. The three men, straining every muscle, failed to budge the wheel. After the third hopeless attempt, Larry let go, and without a word bolted through the passage to the fire-room. "You miserable quitter!" Neville screamed after him, and bent again to the wheel. As he looked up, despairing of any chance to loosen the rusted valve, Larry came back on the run, carrying a coal-pick handle. He thrust it between the spokes of the wheel. "Now, Mr. Neville, all together!" His Celtic jaw was set hard. All three threw their weight against the handle. The wheel stirred. As they straightened for another effort, a louder noise of hissing steam sounded from the boilers, and the fire-room force, mad with fright, came crowding through the passage to the higher floor of the engine-room. "Quick! Together!" Neville gasped. The wheel moved an inch. "Once more! _Now!_" The wheel turned and did not stop. The three men dropped the lever, seized the wheel, and threw the valve wide open. "Good work, men!" Neville cried, and fell back exhausted. The centrifugal pump was thrown in at the last desperate moment. When the rusted valve finally opened, water had risen to the lower grate-bars under every boiler in the fire-room. But once in action, the twelve-inch suction of the giant pump did its work with magic swiftness. In less than thirty seconds the last gallon of water in the bilges had been lifted and sent, rushing through the discharge, overboard. Neville faced the boiler-room crew sternly. "Now, you cowards, get to your fires!" he said. As the men slunk back through the passage Dan growled: "May that man some day burn in hell!" "Don't be wishin' him no such luck," an angry voice answered; "wish him down here wid us." * * *