will land you at Okra Point. You can hire a rig there to take you
to the railroad."

"But why?" demanded David indignantly. "Why was I kidnapped? What
had I done? Who were those men who--"

From the pilot-house there was a sharp jangle of bells to the
engine-room, and the speed of the tug slackened.

"Come on," commanded the young man briskly. "The pilot's going
ashore. Here's your grip, here's your hat. The ladder's on the
port side. Look where you're stepping. We can't show any lights,
and it's dark as--"

But, even as he spoke, like a flash of powder, as swiftly as one
throws an electric switch, as blindingly as a train leaps from
the tunnel into the glaring sun, the darkness vanished and the
tug was swept by the fierce, blatant radiance of a search-light.

It was met by shrieks from two hundred throats, by screams,
oaths, prayers, by the sharp jangling of bells, by the blind rush
of many men scurrying like rats for a hole to hide in, by the
ringing orders of one man. Above the tumult this one voice rose
like the warning strokes of a fire-gong, and looking up to the
pilot-house from whence the voice came, David saw the barkeeper
still in his shirt-sleeves and with his derby hat pushed back
behind his ears, with one hand clutching the telegraph to the
engine-room, with the other holding the spoke of the wheel.

David felt the tug, like a hunter taking a fence, rise in a great