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"Well, missie," he said, "I'm examining the engines, Mistaw Tollemache is fi-wing up the donkey-boiler, an' Doctaw Chwistobal is with Mistaw Boyle. You know whe-aw the captain is, so I weckon yo' best place is the saloon." "Dr. Christobal said you were making a raft?" "That's wight. But when the ship got off, we tackled othaw jobs. She is ow-ah best waft." "And do you think we have any chance."
Tollemache, who undertook the firing of the donkey-boiler, which was situated on the main deck aft of the saloon for the Kansas was built chiefly to accommodate cargo during his wanderings round the world had picked up sufficient knowledge of steam-power to shovel fuel into the furnace and regulate the water-level by the feed valve and pump.
Catching Joey under his left arm, he climbed the short ladder leading to the spar deck, and pulled it up after him, the bolts having been already removed to permit of that being done. Walker was screwing tight the door of the engine-room, in order to safeguard the fireman in attendance on the donkey-boiler.
Wind and sea had abated so sensibly that the Pacific rollers raced on unbroken, and it was no longer a super-human task to make one's voice heard along the deck. So the captain aroused Walker with a sharp order: "Go and see if the donkey-boiler has a good head of steam. We may have to drop the stream anchor quick, and both bowers as well.
Steam was kept up constantly in the donkey-boiler, not alone for the electric light and the daily working of the pumps as the Kansas had not blundered over the shoal without straining some of her plates but for use against the naked bodies of their possible assailants.
"Got married when I reached home that trip," he explained. "The wife comes here every Thursday, an' I have to carry the kit. Rather rot, isn't it?" "It is certainly a change from stoking the donkey-boiler, and bowling over Alaculofs like nine-pius."
A man rushed by, or tried to do so. Courtenay recognized him as a leading stoker who had temporary charge of the donkey-boiler and seized him wrathfully, his eyes ablaze. "Go back!" he roared. "Señor! The ship is lost!" "Go back, and await my orders." He could have strangled the fugitive in his sudden rage. The fireman endeavored to gasp his readiness to obey.
Well, just shove Sooth Sheels an' Tynemouth a few hundwed feet high-ah, an' you've got it. Now, don't twy to talk, or you might cwack yo' face." With this Parthian shaft of humor he vanished towards the forecastle, whence the ubiquitous donkey-boiler, through one of its long arms, would shoot forth the stockless anchors at the touch of a lever.
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