“Dig, men! Dig for your lives!”
Mr. Briggs, his face pale with anxiety, stood over half a dozen men
who were making the coal fly as they dug into it in search of what
they dreaded to find. Ned, in a state of semi-collapse, stood by the
engineer.
“Now, bear up, Strong,” said that officer, “there’s a chance that he
may be all right. Don’t give way.”
But, although the chief engineer spoke hopefully, he did not entertain
a doubt that Herc must have been crushed into annihilation beneath the
subsided mass of coal. There was just one chance, though, and it was
that which incited the engineer to urge the men engaged in the work of
rescue to work as they had never worked before.
But they needed no urging. Herc was a general favorite on board, and
the thought that he was in there under that mass of coal gave each man
twice the strength that he normally possessed. They dug on, careless of
fatigue under the stimulus of the work in hand. Suddenly one of them
stopped.
“Did you hear something, mates?” he cried excitedly.
“No, what was it?”
“I thought I heard a kind of a tapping sound,” rejoined the man who had
first spoken.
“It’ll be the spirit of the poor lad,” remarked an old sailor who was
one of the diggers.
“Nonsense,” spoke Mr. Briggs sharply, stepping forward. “What did you
say you heard, Adams?”
“I thought I heard a tapping sound, sir; but I couldn’t be sure. Yes;
there it is again! Hark!”
They listened with strained ears. If there was really tapping going on
within the bunker it could only mean one thing, and that was that Herc
was alive!
The next instant they thrilled with excitement. Slowly and not very
loudly amid the manifold noises all about, there came the distinct
sound of a regular tap-tap--tap-tap-tap!
Mr. Briggs, ordinarily self-contained and reserved, gave a jubilant
shout.
“It is the one hope that I held on to in the face of everything!” he
cried. “The boy is alive.”
“But how--how could he have avoided being crushed to death when the
coal fell in?” demanded Ned.
“When that coal was loaded, as is customary, certain board partitions
were put in at intervals to keep it from shifting. When I heard that
the coal had caved in on you, I made up my mind at once that it was
one of these partitions that had been undermined and had given way. My
faint hope that by a miracle Taylor might have been saved, was based
on a desperate belief that by some marvelous chance the boards might
have fallen in such a way as to keep the coal above them from crushing
Taylor’s body.”
As may be imagined, while Mr. Briggs was giving this explanation, the
digging had been resumed with even more frenzied haste than before.
“Stick to it, boy! We’re coming!” shouted the diggers, and each time
they uttered these and other encouraging shouts the tapping came back
in reply.
Ned, half frantic with excitement, had seized upon a shovel and was
digging with might and main. At last their shovels broke through the
coal and penetrated into a hollow space beyond. The beams falling from
above where the bunkers widened out had become wedged in the narrower
part of the bunkers below. In this way a shield had providentially been
interposed between Herc and the ponderous masses of coal above.
As the opening was widened out and Herc’s face appeared, Ned leaped
into the bunker and dragged his chum out amidst the cheers of the men
who had taken part in the rescue.
“Wow!” exclaimed Herc, “that was close quarters in there, all right. I
thought I’d suffocate sure before you got to me.”
“How did it happen?” asked Ned, in a voice still shaky from his shock.
“I thought you were beside me.”
“So I was, but I tripped in the darkness. I remember thinking,
‘Good-bye, everybody!’ as that coal came thundering down. When the
noise stopped I didn’t know whether I was dead or not for a minute.
Then, to my surprise, I found that I could move about. I reached up
a short distance above and I felt some planks. Then I knew what had
happened. They’d got wedged across where the bunker grew narrow at the
bottom and my life was saved.
“But I was scared stiff that I’d die anyhow before you got to me, and
that’s why I kept banging on the planks with my shovel to hurry you up.”
“Well, young man,” said Mr. Briggs, “go up on deck and fill your lungs
with fresh air. You’ve been near enough to death to shake hands with
him. I believe that you two boys must bear charmed lives. Strong, you
may accompany your ship-mate on deck. Carry on, men.”
The work went forward as if nothing out of the way had taken place. On
Uncle Sam’s big fighting ships men are expected to take narrow escapes
much as a matter of course when there is work in hand.
At eight bells, midnight, so much coal had been removed that it was
impossible for the men to work any longer. They were so close to the
fire now that only a thin wall of coal separated them from it. The heat
was terrific. Above, the steel sides of the bunker began to glow with a
dull red color from the seething inferno inside.
Mr. Briggs went on deck and reported to the captain what had been done.
By this time both Ned and Herc had returned to work and taken their
share of the gruelling task just as if nothing had happened to upset
them.
The chief engineer was in a quandary. He dared not try to flood the
bunkers with water. A sudden rush of water on the blazing mass of
red-hot coals would be likely to blow the side out of the ship, or, at
any rate, to cause a serious accident. He was still wrestling with the
problem when he came below. A consultation with his junior officers
followed, but nobody could suggest any solution but to let the fire
burn itself out.
But this Mr. Briggs was unwilling to do. The fire might communicate
to the other bunkers if not promptly checked. At length he decided
to rig steam pipes into the bunkers and throttle the blaze in that
way. The pipes were rigged through the ventilators and then steam at
high pressure was forced through the reënforced hose employed for
the purpose. The experiment was completely successful and by daylight
the _Manhattan_ had escaped a grave peril and the Dreadnought Boys
had passed through an experience which neither of them was likely to
forget for a long time to come. Nor till it was all over did a man of
the crew, except those immediately concerned, know of the dire peril to
which the ship had been exposed.