The skipper, standing beside the two quartermasters at the helm, was about to take his sorely tried craft over the dangerous bar. It required pluck, but there was no option if she were to make port at all. It had to be now or never, for, if the _Quilboma_ failed to make the bar, she would either be dashed to pieces on the reef or drift helplessly at the mercy of the gale. With the wind now broad on the starboard beam the old tramp rolled horribly. Peter, hanging on to the bridge-rail, fancied that every piece of steelwork in the hold had broken adrift. Groaning, thudding, quivering, swept by sheets of blinding spray, the _Quilboma_ staggered towards the danger-zone. At one moment her propeller was almost clear of the water; at the next the labouring engines seemed to be pulled up, as the madly racing blades sank deep beneath the surface of the broiling sea. Now she was in the thick of it. Tossed about like a cork, wallowing like a barrel, the old tramp was almost unmanageable. One of the quartermasters was juggling with the wheel of the steam steering-gear like a man possessed, as he strove to keep the old hooker on her course. To port and starboard the ugly reef was showing its teeth, as the remorseless breakers crashed and receded with a continual roar of thunder. Suddenly a thud, different from the rest of the hideous noises, shook the ship from stem to stern. For a moment--to Peter the pause seemed interminable--she seemed to hang up. Then, with a sickening, sideways lurch she dragged over the hard sand into the comparatively deep and sheltered waters beyond. "Done it, by Jove!" exclaimed the Old Man, as he rang down for half-speed ahead. "We're in." But he was trembling like a person in a fit. Twenty minutes later the S.S. _Quilboma_ berthed alongside the quay. The order to draw fires was a superfluous one. The furnaces had burned themselves out. CHAPTER XXXVIII The Completion of the Contract It was too late to commence unloading that day. Peter, having notified the authorities of the arrival of the consignment, and having arranged for the Government surveyor to inspect the steelwork on the following afternoon, made his way to the Davis's bungalow. So far all was well. The time-limit fixed for the delivery of the Brocklington Ironworks Company's contract was still forty-eight hours off, and there was no apparent reason why the stipulated conditions should not be complied with. Olive greeted him warmly. Mr. and Mrs. Davis made him welcome with typical overseas sincerity, and he spent a most enjoyable evening. At daybreak gangs of natives were set to work to clear the _Quilboma's_ hold. By noon the bulk of the steelwork lay upon the quayside. At four in the afternoon the material was examined, tested, and passed by the representative of the Kilba Protectorate Government, and an hour later Peter sent another cablegram to his father: "Contract completed O.K. Official confirmation follows."