118 SIMPSON, MYSELF AND THE PERSONAGE. 



"Why, Rudder," I exclaimed, "I didn't know 

 you were alive ! " 



" Oh, yes," said the imperturbable Simpson. 

 " Nose in a sling, but still seaworthy. Rigged up 

 jury-nose — see ? " 



The fire burst through the Ganges' main-hatch, 

 sending up a fountain of rushing, soaring, spread- 

 ing, fluttering red sparks. They scattered out 

 over the sky. They fell in hot showers upon a 

 score of anchored ships. Every endangered ves- 

 sel had men aloft. 



Buckets were passed from tarry hand to tarry 

 hand. We drenched the masts and yards and 

 sails and rigging. 



" Why in the name o' sea-sense, don't somebody 

 scuttle the old hooker ? " 



" 'Fraid to." 



" Don't wonder ; no fun to go below in a blazin' 

 butter-box — resky, blamed resky . But why in 



blazes don't Oh, look, boy, look ! clap yer 



for'ard lights on that — they done it a' ready ! " 



So they had. The old ballahoo settled away, 

 like a spaded shark, and went hissing to the 

 bottom, only her blazing masts still stuck out of 

 the water. 



" Good," said Rudder, " bully for every man 

 Jack of 'em ! " 



