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Fifteen minutes later a dozen men were kicking exhaustedly in the water on the port side of the Vulcan, shouting in urgent voices for ropes. A few were already clambering up the bobstays. There was no reply from the utterly terrorized men on the tug, then came the whiz of missiles thrown through the air.

“Hogan! Mulcher! Galton! Ropes! Give us your ladder!” bawled Madden at the top of his authority.

“Is—is that you, Misther Madden?” chattered Hogan.

“Yes, yes, ropes, before we drown!”

“Was that you shootin' at us over there?”

“They were shooting at us! They hit two or three of us! Hurry!”

“And who's all that wid ye? Faith, the wather's alive wid min!”