“Gaskin!” he called sharply, “Gaskin!”
To his surprise the drunken fellow stirred and made some mumbling reply.
“Get up. I want to know whether or not you can see anything.”
Came a sluggish stirring from below, and then Gaskin's voice, in which deference struggled with a bad headache, “Yes, sor, I can see hever'thing as usual, sor.”
“I thought I saw a light to the south. Just take a look in that quarter, will you?”
The dopy cook scuffled to his feet and stumbled over to the rail, hung there, peering intently southward. At that moment, there burst out of the sea a brilliant illumination that fairly blinded Madden. Shocked into spasmodic action, the American jumped from barrel to ratlines.
He hardly knew how he got down, as much of a fall as a climb. Strange fearsome thoughts chased through his head. The men were right about something attacking the Minnie B. Now the same thing had attacked the Vulcan. The Vulcan would be sunk. He must rush the men out of the galley into the small
