In his cooler moments Captain Wetherly might not have ordered Dan Frazier to board the stranded Kenilworth before daylight, for a heavy sea was running along the Reef. But he knew there was smoother water in the lee of the stranded steamer and he had reason for confidence in his boat's crew. He had been foolhardy in bringing his tug so close, but he was in no mood to weigh risks; and he was ready to back Dan to play a man's part in this game for high stakes.

Dan had learned to do as he was told without asking why, but as he peered from his plunging yawl at the tall, black hulk of the helpless Kenilworth, his hands were shaking and his lips were dry. Although the seas did not break over the Reef because of the depth of water, they threatened to smash the yawl against the steamer's side. Presently a lantern crept down from the deck above like a huge fire-fly. It was tied to one of the lower rounds of a swaying rope ladder, at the sight of which Dan gathered himself for the ordeal. As the yawl rose he jumped headlong, got a grip on the ladder, and hung on for dear life while a frothing sea washed over him. Gasping for breath, bruised and dazed, he fought his way up the side and fell over the bulwark of the after well-deck.

Dan had not the slightest idea of what he was expected to do on board the Kenilworth, but after two seamen had stood him on his feet he limped forward in search of Captain Bruce. Oddly enough, he did not feel in the least afraid of meeting the hostile ship-master whose wicked plans had been spoiled by the coming of the Resolute. Dan recalled the big, brown-bearded man with the deep voice and the kindly eyes whom he had met in Pensacola harbor, and said to himself, as he had said then: "He looks like too fine a man." But as Captain Jim's agent, Dan braced himself to be stern and dignified while he clambered to the bridge.

He found Captain Bruce standing in the light that fell from the chart-room door.

"I am to stay aboard until further orders from Captain Wetherly, sir," announced Dan in the heaviest voice he could muster.

"Nobody asked you, so get away from my quarters," was the irritable reply. Dan stepped forward into the light and Captain Bruce stared at him with puzzled interest. Then his frown cleared and he exclaimed heartily:

"Why, it's the lad that fished me out of Pensacola harbor. I ought not to forget you, had I? Pardon my rude manners, but a man with his ship in peril is poor company. Come inside. Well, upon my word, this is a most extraordinary reunion all round."

The stalwart master mariner was trying hard to wear his usual manner, but his words came out with jerky, nervous haste, his gaze shifted uneasily, and he was twisting both hands in his beard. If his conscience had been troubling him before, panic fear had now come to torment him; fear of Captain Wetherly; fear even of this boy, for no mere chance could have brought about this midnight meeting on the Reef. In silence Dan followed him into the chart-room and waited while Captain Bruce seemed to forget himself in gloomy reflection. With an effort the master of the Kenilworth looked at the boy and began to explain:

"I hope Captain Wetherly did not take offence. I am responsible for the safety of this ship, and until I can get in touch with my owners my word is final. If I can get her off without help, it means saving a whacking big salvage bill. She is making no water, and is in little danger."

Dan knew enough of the ways of seafaring men to be surprised that this captain should stoop to explain matters to the deck-hand of a tug. But the captain's word did not ring true. He was trying to play a part, and Dan saw through it and was sorry for him.

"You don't know the Reef," replied the boy. "You struck it in good weather. And Captain Jim Wetherly is no robber. He would not stand by if he thought you were not going to need him and need him bad. We don't do any crooked business aboard the Resolute, sir."

Dan had not meant to deal this last home-thrust. He was one lone-handed boy in the enemy's camp. Captain Bruce flushed and looked hard at Dan, not so much with anger as with unhappy doubt and anxiety. He did not reply and appeared to be struggling with his thoughts. Dan was so worn out with excitement and loss of sleep that he had to blink hard at the swinging lamp to keep his eyes open, and after several minutes of silence, Captain Bruce's face seemed to waver in a kind of haze. Dan aroused himself with a start when the master of the Kenilworth spoke the question that was uppermost in his thoughts:

"How did your tow-boat happen to find me to-night? What were you doing out here, boy?"

Dan's drowsiness fled as if a gun had been fired in the room. What could he say? If he told the truth he might be knocked on the head and dropped overboard before daylight. Deeds as bad as this had been done on the Reef, and he was the only witness to back up Captain Jim's story of a plot to wreck the steamer. He could only stammer:

"We were running to the north'ard and saw your signals. Captain Wetherly commands the Resolute. You must ask him."

"He threatened and bulldozed me to-night," exclaimed Captain Bruce. "I let you come on board because he treated me kindly at Pensacola. I will give him my answer at daylight."

Dan leaned forward with his elbows on the table and looked up into the captain's face. Mustering all his courage, he began to say what was in his heart, as if he were talking to one of his own friends who had done something to be sorry for:

"Captain Wetherly is working for your interests, sir. He knows the Reef better than any pilot out of Key West. If he says he can get your steamer off, he'll do it. And—and—he wants to save you—your ship—no matter what it costs him. It—it—isn't only to get ahead of Jerry Pringle on a wrecking job, Captain. He likes you, and Barton Pringle is my chum, and Mrs. Pringle is my mother's dearest friend, and Captain Jim wants to get you clear and on your voyage again without—without being forced to—to fight it out to a finish with you and Jerry Pringle. It's for Bart and his mother, and for you, too, Captain Bruce."

The ship-master walked to the doorway and stood gazing out into the night. Then he replied gruffly with a hard laugh:

"You are almost asleep, my boy. I can't make head or tail of what you are driving at. I make my own bargains with tugs when I need them. Lie down on the transom and take forty winks. I am going to start my engines again and work my vessel off on this tide."

Dan nodded and promptly curled up on the leather cushions. Daylight showed through the port-holes when he awoke and stepped out on deck. A few cable-lengths to seaward rolled the Resolute. Astern of her was the Henry Foster. Beating up the Hawk Channel inside the Reef came two schooners under clouds of canvas. Other sails flecked the sea to the southward, all hastening toward the Kenilworth. From among the low islets to the westward the smaller craft of the "Conchs," or scattered dwellers on the Keys, were speeding toward the scene. The Kenilworth lay with a list to port, her bow shoved high on the invisible Reef, her stern still afloat. It would have been hard to convince a landlubber that this great steamer was in danger of going to pieces. No seas were breaking around her. She looked as if she had come to a standstill in mid ocean.

Dan Frazier had the love of the sea in him. The sight of this helpless ship as he saw her by daylight appealed to him as tremendously sad and tragic. He picked up a sounding lead and let it fall over the side to find the depth of water amidships, for a glance at the chart-room clock had told him that the tide was almost at the flood. The sound of voices made him look aft. Captain Bruce was coming forward with Jeremiah Pringle, and behind them was Barton. A moment later, Captain Jim Wetherly threw a leg over the steamer's rail and shouted to his men in the yawl to wait for him. He ran forward to Dan without speaking to the others as he passed them, and shoving his nephew toward Captain Bruce he exclaimed:

"Here's my man, aboard your ship hours ahead of Pringle. You'll have to talk business with me first. And all I ask is a square deal."

Barton hung back and acted as if he had caught the spirit of the hostile rivalry that threatened an explosion of some kind. He was more highly strung and impulsive than Dan, less used to knocking about among men, and he felt that Dan was somehow taking sides against him. Before Captain Bruce could speak, Jerry Pringle strode up with an ugly scowl on his lean, dark face and said:

"Let Wetherly talk terms. When he gets through, I will be ready to sign a paper to take charge of the job for half the figure he names, I don't care how low he goes."

"That ought to settle it. You can't do as well as that, Captain Wetherly," put in the master of the Kenilworth. "If you are so sure my ship can be pulled off, I see no reason why Captain Pringle isn't the man to do it."

Captain Jim was trying to keep his temper under, but the fact that these two men were trying to carry out their vile agreement right under his nose was more than he could stand. He shook his heavy fist in Jerry Pringle's face and declared:

"The Resolute will make fast to this ship this morning. And if you want the Henry Foster to get action, it will be under my orders, and at my terms. By Judas, this play-acting ends right here. I mean you, too, Captain Bruce. I have been hoping that I could keep my mouth shut. I'd rather cut off my right hand than drag certain other people into it. I know why you brought your boy along with you, Jerry Pringle. To put a stopper on my tongue, wasn't it? Hide behind women and children, eh? Well, I'm in charge of wrecking this steamer, understand? Get back to your tug. I've a good mind to——"

He felt a pull at his arm, and turned to look into Dan's imploring face as the boy whispered:

"Don't say any more, Uncle Jim. Wait till Bart is out of the way, please, oh please do."

Captain Jim rammed his hands in his breeches pockets and addressed Captain Bruce:

"I've said my last word. My hawser will come aboard at once."

The master of the Kenilworth wavered and looked at Jerry Pringle as if appealing to the stronger will which had tempted and entrapped him. The hapless ship-master had gone too far with the plot to let it go by the board. Pringle muttered with a sneer:

"Who is master of this steamer, anyhow?"

Captain Bruce echoed the remark:

"I command this ship, Captain Wetherly, and the sooner you leave her the better."

Wasting no more words, Captain Jim called to his boat's crew to stand by to take him off, and said to Dan:

"Pringle is going back to his tug. You stay here. They won't dare to do you any harm. Keep your eyes and ears open."

Presently Bart followed his father on board the Henry Foster. Dan had found no chance to talk with him and he was not sorry. He was afraid Bart would ask him what Captain Jim's angry speech had meant. Already the stranding of the Kenilworth had dragged the two lads into its tangle of motives and events.

Dan was too absorbed in wondering what Captain Jim could do next to dwell long with his own troubles and perplexities. He watched the Resolute steam nearer the Kenilworth, while Captain Wetherly's deck-crew gathered around the huge coils of steel hawser on the overhang. Soon the Henry Foster wallowed closer and her men were also busy making ready to pay out a towing hawser. Dan could not understand how Captain Jim was going to get his line aboard the Kenilworth, and he breathlessly awaited the next move.

On board the Resolute, Captain Wetherly was standing at the wheel and watching the Henry Foster with the light of battle in his gray eyes. Jerry Pringle's tug had forged ahead until she lay square in the path of the Resolute which was thus prevented from getting into position for taking hold of the steamer on the Reef.

Captain Jim pulled the whistle cord and the Resolute clamored to the other tug to move out of the way. But Mr. Pringle seemed determined to remain exactly where he was. Again and again the Resolute's whistle was sounded, but the Henry Foster refused to make room. Captain Wetherly finally growled to the mate:

"He doesn't seem to have very good manners, does he? Maybe he ought to be taught a lesson. Take the wheel while I go below and have a few words with Mr. McKnight."

The chief engineer was leaning against a stanchion and muttering insults at the balky Henry Foster, with special emphasis on the shortcomings of Mr. J. Pringle.

"Are you going to sit here all day and let those Henry Fosters laugh at you, Captain?" asked McKnight.

"Not if you have steam enough to do as I tell you, Bill. All I want you to do is to jump her ahead for all she's worth when I ring the jingle bell. Then hold on tight and say your prayers."

"Going to push Pringle out of the way?" asked the engineer with a smile of happy anticipation. "Well, there's steam enough to make the Henry Foster know she's been bumped. It's about time something happened."

The captain returned to the wheel-house and gave the signal to back her. The Resolute slipped very slowly astern until she was in a position for a "running start." As a final warning her whistle was blown, without reply from the Henry Foster. Then, with one long blast like a war-whoop, the Resolute moved straight ahead, gathering headway until her rearing bow was flinging cascades of spray. The mate gasped:

"Keep her off, Captain, or you'll be in collision."

Captain Wetherly grinned and nodded as he held his tug straight at the after part of the Henry Foster on board of which there was much shouting and running to and fro.

Her crew had taken it for granted that the Resolute would pass astern of them until her tall cut-water loomed within a hundred feet of their overhang. Then her engine-room bells ding-donged one frantic signal after another, but she began to move too late. Crash! and she heeled far over from the shock of the collision. Like a keen-edged axe through a soft timber, the bow of the Resolute, with her weight and momentum behind it, sheared through the overhang and sliced a dozen feet off the stern of the luckless Henry Foster. It was done and over within a twinkling. The Resolute ploughed on with headway almost unchecked, and as her horrified mate rushed forward to see what damage had been done to her own hull, Captain Jim Wetherly looked back and remarked to himself:

"As neat a job as I ever saw. Her after bulkhead will keep her afloat, but the Henry Foster is surely shy her tail-feathers. I guess that winds up her career as a tow-boat for some time. Jerry Pringle looks kind of upset and agitated."

Mr. Pringle had picked himself up from the deck, where he had been hurled headlong, and was wildly shaking his fist at the Resolute. The crippled tug was drifting off broadside and was evidently helpless. Presently a small boat put off from her and headed for the Resolute. As soon as he was within shouting distance, Jerry Pringle rose in the stern-sheets and yelled in a voice broken with rage:

"You'll pay for my vessel, Jim Wetherly. You run her down on purpose. She'll founder or drift on the Reef if you don't tow me to Key West."

"You violated all the rules of the road," sung back Captain Jim. "And you're so fond of wrecking other people's vessels, supposing you see what kind of a job you can make of the Henry Foster. Tow you to Key West? You're joking. I'm going to put my line aboard the Kenilworth and I'll settle with you later."

Dan was dancing up and down on the Kenilworth's deck as he stared at this amazing collision. It might be a reckless and lawless thing to do, but Dan saw that Jerry Pringle had brought the disaster upon himself, and that it had given Captain Jim a clear field. Throwing his cap in the air, Dan let out a series of shrill and joyous war-whoops. He had forgotten all about Barton, but in the midst of his noisy jubilation he caught sight of his chum standing aft on the Henry Foster and peering down at the havoc made by the collision. Dan's voice must have carried across the water, for Bart turned to look at the Kenilworth and shook his fist with every sign of rage and resentment. Dan subsided, but the mischief had been done. He had made an enemy of Barton, and he muttered with a sorrowful face:

"I can't blame him for getting mad as a hornet at me. I ought to have kept still. I don't know how we can ever patch up this misunderstanding either. He ought to hold his daddy responsible for thinking he could monkey with Uncle Jim Wetherly and the Resolute."