Besides attending to the wheel Tom now reached out with one hand and switched on the search-light, which he manipulated with one hand. Shortly he found the spot where the portion of the wall had been blown away by the first explosion. A hundred and fifty yards farther out he beheld the work of the second explosion. Some seventy-five yards in length was the new open space, where at least as much of the retaining wall as was visible above the water had been blown out. "Slow down, Cordon," ordered Tom. "All we want is headway." "All right, sir." Tom drifted in within a few feet of the former site of the retaining wall. The "Morton" moved slowly by, Tom, by the aid of the searchlight, noting the extent of the disaster. "Get back aft, Evarts," ordered the young engineer, turning and beholding the late foreman. "We don't want you here." For a moment or two it looked as though Evarts would refuse. Then, with a growl, he rose and picked his way aft. By this time the other men who had been in his gang were awake. They regarded their former foreman with no great display of sympathy. "I'll confess I'm mystified," muttered Tom, watching the scene of the latest explosion for some minutes after the engine had been stopped. "When daylight comes and we can use the divers we ought to know a bit more about how such a big blast is worked in the dead of night when the scoundrels ought to make noise enough to be heard. It must have been a series of connected blasts, all touched off at the same moment, Mr. Renshaw, but even such a series is by no means easy to lay. And then the blasts have to be drilled for, and then tamped." "As you say, sir," replied the superintendent, "a much clearer idea can be formed when we have daylight and the divers." Tom held his watch to one side of the searchlight. "Nearly two hours yet until daylight, Mr. Renshaw," he announced. "And, of course, it will be two or three hours after daylight before we can get the divers at work. A fearful length of time to wait!" "You'd better go back to the shore, sir," urged the superintendent. "Not while this boat needs to be run," objected Reade. "For the rest of the night I want a man here whom I can trust." "Will you trust me with the boat?" proposed the superintendent. "Why, of course!" "Then let me run back to the dock and put you ashore, Mr. Reade. After that I'll come out here and patrol along the wall until broad daylight." That was accordingly done. The "Morton" lay alongside the dock, and Nicolas instantly busied himself with casting off the rowboat and making her fast to the pier instead. Evarts sullenly remained in the boat. "Come on, Evarts," spoke Tom quietly. "Mr. Reade," expostulated the late foreman, "I'm not going to be thrown out of my job like this." "Which especial way of being thrown out do you prefer then?" Tom queried, dryly. "I'm not going to be put out of my job until I've had at least one good talk with you," insisted the foreman.