a wave, showing the red underbody. And it reminded him of the yawning
mouth of some sea monster hungry for prey.

"We're lying here like bloodsuckers!" he yelled. "Waiting for salvage
while good men are dying! Dying--and we're doing nothing! Fellows,"
he roared, "I'm going to take the tug in to her. I'm not afraid of a
risk to save the lives of brave men."

"All right, Cap'n," said Mulhatton, "you know we'll go with you. But
there's no use in bein' fools. Take the tug in--yes. But how'll you
take her out again?"

Dan glared across the heaving waters with bloodshot eyes. "No use; you
couldn't, couldn't get her out again. No, you couldn't." He repeated
this several times. "Is there anything that could?" he added finally.

He looked at his men for the answer, but their eyes were still fastened
on the wreck with almost hypnotic fascination.

"Her deck-load's beginning to shift. It'll be clear off soon and
that'll take the other mast," announced Noonan.

One of the men in the rigging, a giant, tow-headed fellow, suddenly
went crazy,--at least so it seemed. For his lips writhed in a haunting
scream as he whipped out his knife and cut his lashings. Then he
turned a bloodless face toward the _Fledgling_, uttered a short,
rasping shout, and jumped into the sea. A great wave seized him
greedily and swirled him high. Dan caught a fleeting glimpse of that
face, turned reproachfully, it seemed, toward him.