Part 21 (2/2)

”Get hold and keep her clear!” said Jefferson, who thrust the rake upon him, and then waited a moment before he lowered the hose, while Austin, glancing round a moment, could see the faces of the men above them. They were intent, and almost as expectant as his comrade's.

Then the big pipe sank with a soft splash, and shook out its loose half-coil, as if alive, while it swelled. It grew hard and rigid, and the dim, oily water swirled and seethed about the end of it. In another moment there was a rush of floating objects towards it from the shadows.

Strips of bagging, handspikes, clots of oil, and dunnage wood, came thicker and thicker, and Jefferson raised his voice.

”Let her hum!” he said.

The pipe palpitated as it further straightened itself, and now a hole opened in the oily water, and half-seen things came up with a rush from the depths of the flooded hold. Hundreds of little black kernels whirled and sank in the swing of the eddy, which grew wider as a deep, resonant hum descended from the deck above. It seemed to Austin that everything in the hold was coming to the top, but as he watched the bewildering succession of odds and ends that spun amidst the froth, Jefferson's voice rose harshly.

”It's water she's wanting! Keep her clear!” he said.

Austin contrived to do it for a while, though now and then the whirling rush of bags and wood almost tore the rake away from him. He was kept busy for half an hour, while Jefferson stood leaning out from the ladder, and steadily watching the water. Then the American swung himself down, with his knife in his hand, and scratched the iron at its level.

”We'll know in another hour or two whether we're pumping out the _c.u.mbria_ or pumping in the creek,” he said. ”If it's the latter, I've got to let up on the contract. I can't undertake to dry out this part of Africa.”

Then he signed to one of the Canarios. ”Come down. Ven aca, savvy, and take this rake.”

They went up together, but as they pa.s.sed along the deck Jefferson stopped once more to lay his hand upon the pump. It was running with a dull, rumbling roar, and the deck trembled about it.

”She's doing good work,” he said. ”Now we'll have comida. I daren't go back there for another hour.”

They went into the deck-house, where the Spaniard who acted as steward was waiting them, but in pa.s.sing, Jefferson made a sign to Tom, who stood in the glow from the fire-door, with a shovel in his hand.

”All she's worth!” he said.

They ate as a matter of duty, and because they needed all the strength the climate had left them, but neither had much appet.i.te, and Austin knew that Jefferson was listening as eagerly as he was himself to the deep, vibrating hum that came throbbing through the open door. It was a relief to both of them to hear, the persistent jingling of a cup that stood unevenly in its saucer. The pump was running well, but there remained the momentous question, was it lowering the water? And when the meal was over, Austin glanced at Jefferson as he pushed his plate aside.

”Shall I go down and look?” he asked.

”No,” said Jefferson hoa.r.s.ely. ”Any way, if you do, don't come back and worry me. She's full up, fore and after holds and engine room--and there are things I don't stand very well. We'll give her two hours, and then, if she's doing anything worth while, the scratch I made will be dry.”

Austin nodded sympathetically. ”Under the circ.u.mstances,” he said, ”two hours is a long while.”

Jefferson smiled, a curious, wry smile. ”It's hard--the toughest thing one can do--just to keep still; but if I climbed up and down that ladder for two hours I'd probably break out, and heave somebody into the creek.

There are things you have to get over once for all--and do it quick.”

”I suppose there are,” said Austin. ”Still, it's the first time I've made the acquaintance of any of them, and I shouldn't have fancied one could get a thrill of this kind out of a centrifugal pump. There is, however, of course, a good deal at stake.”

”Eighty thousand dollars,” said Jefferson, ”and all the rest of my life.

You don't usually get such chances as the _c.u.mbria_ is giving us twice.”

Austin found that he, at least, could not keep still, however he tried, and he went out and paced up and down the slanted deck, where he fell over things, though he now and then endeavored to talk rationally to Tom the donkey-man. He did not find the attempt a success, but he saw that he was not the only one who felt the tension, for the Canarios, in place of resting, were cl.u.s.tered round the hatch, and apparently staring down the opening. Jefferson was still in the deck-house each time he pa.s.sed, a gaunt, grim-faced object, with a lean hand clenched on an unlighted pipe, and at last Austin sat down on the deck beside the pump. He liked to feel the throb of it, but he remembered the half hour he spent there a long while afterwards.

Then Jefferson came out of the deck-house, walking slowly, though Austin fancied it cost him an effort, and they climbed down the ladder together. The man with the rake stood on the opposite one across the hatch, and Austin felt his heart beat painfully as he raised the lantern he held and Jefferson stooped down. He straightened himself slowly, though the blood was in his face.

”Dry!” he said hoa.r.s.ely. ”She's lowering it. It's a sure thing, Austin.

If the fever doesn't get us we'll see this contract out.”

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