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"A A sea sorpint, sir," stammered a cockney embarrassed. "Sea serpent! Sea serpent!" scouted the American. "There is no such thing as a sea serpent!" "That's w'ot th' hofficers always say," growled Mulcher. "But it is a scientific fact there's no such thing." The well-fed Gaskin, who formed one of the group, made a bob.
"I've 'card as 'ow this was a great place for derelicks." "'Ow could she be a derelick," argued Mulcher, "w'en she 'as so much canvas aloft? You run up on derelicks an' git sunk, ever' cove knows that." "I carn't think of hall these things at once!" retorted Galton. "Perhaps she ees the Vulcan under sail with deesabled engines?" suggested Deschaillon.
"I've heard sea serpents can sting a man and numb him so he won't live or die," shivered Hogan, "like a spider stings a fly." They spoke in half whispers under the influence of the unknown terror. "If anything happens, I shall keel myself," declared Deschaillon, with nervous intensity, "but I shall see it first." "That's w'ot went with the other two crews killed theirselves," chattered Mulcher.
He knocked down the whole line of men below him amid crashings, shoutings and splashings in the water below. The moment the weight was off, Mulcher loosed the grapnel and flung it down into the confusion. The hail of bullets was immediately renewed, and more hooks came flying over. The iron rails rang like a boiler shop, and the steel missiles glanced off whining like enormous mosquitoes.
"We sail in the morning," explained Madden, "for a South American port. Is there anyone in this crew who knows anything about running a marine engine?" The men fell silent and looked inquiringly at each other. Fortune was beginning to show herself elusive, even in the Sargasso, save to those who know. "I b'lieve not," said Mulcher.
"Imaginary, sir!" protested Mulcher, "If you please, us lads on th' dock, the night th' Minnie B sunk, saw something swim off to th' south wrapped hall over in fire, sir. Imaginary thing! It bit a 'ole in th' Minnie B an' sunk 'er, sir!" This recalled to Leonard's mind the peculiar phenomenon he had witnessed at the sinking of the Minnie B. "What do you think the thing is?" he temporized.
"It is quite possible that they sleep through the day which is utterly becalmed and make some little headway at night with the slight evening and morning breezes it would be a task for a sailing vessel to work herself out of the Sargasso." "Why I never thought of that. I suppose it is possible." Mulcher was returning with a buoy.
The Irishman grinned in the dim light, "Yis, sor, they're in their bunks wishin' to die. They've niver been in a blow before. It's say-sick they ar-re." Both men were holding to the stanchion. "Seasick!" ejaculated Madden. "How about Heck Mulcher and Ben Galton?" he recalled the names on the list.
"And that goose or something!" Eager hands reached down as Madden and Caradoc handed up the platters. "To the mess room, to the mess room!" directed Leonard. "Sure, sure, we wouldn't touch a mouthful for hanything!" cried Mulcher earnestly. "Misther Madden, you're a wonder!" extolled Hogan. Then the three men climbed up and were received clamorously.
"Oi don't a ack loike it, you hic you couldn't tell it on me, b-but Oi Oi Oi'm drunk, aw roight." "I theenk Greer ees in the cook's galley," smiled Deschaillon, who appeared to be rational; then he added coolly: "Eef there ees any fighting, I weel help you, Meester Madden." "Cook's galley!" sputtered Mulcher. "'E's drinkin' hit ever' drop, lads; come on!" "An' th' grub, too!" added Hogan.
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