Captain Barney recognized the wisdom of the words with a groan. He was
far past the arguing point. The tide was boiling past the side of the
vessel, swashing like a mill-race. All they could do under present
conditions was to cast off when the tug was very near the freighter,
cut in across, and get under the ladder before the tug could properly
warp alongside.

Nearer lumbered the _Quinn_. When within twenty feet of the
_Kentigern_ she swung broadside on, ceasing all headway and drifting
into position on the tide.

"Now, then," cried Dan, suddenly leaping into the thwarts and manning
the oars. "Haul on the line. Bring her right under the Quinn's stern
and then cut, quick!"

Hand over hand hauled Captain Barney and the rowboat came under the
stern with a jump. Then he cut the line. Dan dug his oars into the
water and the slim boat shot for the ladder, while the great tug came
down, more slowly, on the side. Ten, twenty strokes; and then, as Dan
with a great sigh unshipped his oars, Captain Barney chuckled, seized
the sides of the ladder, and hauling himself on the bottom rung,
skipped up with the agility of a monkey.

With a swish and a splash up pounded the _Quinn_.

"Look out!" roared Dan, "there's a boat here!"

It saved him; for a bell clanged in the engine-room, and the tug began
to make sternway. It saved him for but a minute, though.