Crawford was on his way to report to the bridge. He had been flung violently on the bed-plates when the explosion occurred. Upon regaining his feet he found the engine-room in darkness save for the feeble glimmer of an oil lamp. Water was pouring in like a sluice through a rent in the after bulkhead that separated the engine-room from No. 3 hold. The firemen, panic-stricken, were bolting on deck. Neither by words nor action could Crawford stem the human tide of affrighted Asiatics. Quietly he made his way to the platform and awaited orders from the bridge. The telegraph remained silent, the indicator on the dial still pointing to "Full Ahead". By this time the water in the stokeholds was damping the fires, and Crawford deemed it prudent to shut off steam and open the escape valves in order to avert an explosion of the boilers. Knee deep in the oily water that slushed to and fro as the ship rolled, the engineer of the watch groped his way through clouds of steam until his self-appointed task was done. Then, after shouting in case anyone else had remained below, he effected his retreat and at once made for the bridge to report to the Old Man. "She's going, Mr. Preston," declared Captain Bullock. "She is, sir," agreed the Acting Chief. Experience had taught him the now unmistakable symptoms of a foundering ship. "Call away the boats," continued the Old Man "If you've trouble with that mob use your revolver, Preston. Don't hesitate. Remember we've women on board. Use your discretion as to what boat you stow 'em in." The Acting Chief hurried off, pausing outside the wireless-room to give Mostyn the last known position of the ship, which information was a necessary adjunct to the SOS call. Peter had not been idle. The moment the seriousness of the situation became apparent he was back at his post in the wireless-cabin. The shutting off of steam had automatically stopped the dynamo. In any case, the explosion had severed the "leads". The main set was out of action. Mostyn had to fall back upon the emergency gear. For quite ten minutes he contrived to call up, but no reassuring reply came through in reply to the urgent appeal for aid. There were ships within range of the emergency set, that Peter knew. He had spoken them earlier in the evening. "Either atmospherics or else they've another Partridge and Plover on board," he thought grimly. "Wonder where my birds are?" The two Watchers ought to have been on the bridge by this time. In case of distress it was their duty to "fall in" outside the wireless-cabin and await instructions. Neither had done so.