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 some of th' fellows are in th' cook's galley now eatin'.”

Madden lifted his hand for attention, “There's no use speculating on what has happened. It's our job to get dock and tug to the nearest port.”

“But suppose—suppose——”

“Suppose what?”

“Suppose th' thing gits arfter us, sir?”

Madden stared, “Thing—what thing?”

The cockney frowned, looked glumly across deck. Galton answered,

“W'y, sir, th' thing that run th' crew hoff the Minnie B an' hoff th' Vulcan. Crews don't 'op hoff in th' hocean for amoosement, sir. Some'n' done hit an' that's sure.”

“Do you mean you object to sailing this tug on account of some imaginary thing?” demanded Madden in utter surprise.

“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!”