Then some of the officers went down and spent half an hour in water up to their waists feeling around after that awful hole, but they couldn’t ascertain where it was.  The only thing that they were certain of was that the water was steadily gaining on them, and the ship was certain to sink unless something was done.  All this time Mr. Bradley’s pump was working away, and the captain continually enjoined the engineer to give it greater speed.

Then the captain himself went down and made an examination; and although he failed to find the leak, he was alarmed to discover a quantity of codfish and porpoises swimming about in the hold, because he knew that the hole in the hull must be very large indeed to admit the fish.  And still the water rose steadily all the time, although Bradley’s pump was jerking away at it in a terrific manner and all the other pumps were running at full speed.

At last the captain made up his mind that he should have to desert the ship, as she was certain to sink; and so the boats were made ready and packed with provisions and water and a few little comforts, and by this time the water in the bilge was nearly up to the furnace fires.

Just then Bradley’s pump suddenly stopped; and then the captain turned pale as death and demanded to know who stopped that pump, while Bradley buckled a life-preserver around him, corked up a note to his wife in a bottle, and said that now that the pump had ceased he would give that steamer just four minutes to reach bottom.

While he was speaking the engineer came up and said,

“Mr. Bradley, what did you say was the capacity of your pump?”

“Six hundred gallons a minute.”

“Six hundred.  Well, Mr. Bradley, how many gallons do you estimate that there are in the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Blessed if I know.  How in the mischief can I tell that?”

“Oh, it don’t make any particular difference, only I thought you might have some kind of an indistinct idea how long it would take you to run the ocean through your pump.”

“I dunno, I’m sure,” said Bradley.

“Well, I merely wanted to say that, whatever your calculations respecting the number of gallons in the Atlantic, it is perfectly useless for you to try to load up that ocean in this vessel.  She won’t hold more’n half of it.”

“What do you mean, sir?” demanded Bradley.

“Why, I mean that that diabolical pump of yours, instead of taking out the bilge, has been spurting water into this vessel for the past four hours, and that if you have a theory that you can strike dry land by that process it is ingenious, but it won’t work, for it’s going to sink this ship.”

Then the captain swore till the air was blue.  Then he put Bradley in irons, and ripped out his pump, and unpacked the boats, and pumped out the water, and picked up the codfish and porpoises, and set sail for home for the purpose of making a report on the subject of the new invention.  The Bradley Improved Marine Steam-pump went right out of use at the end of the voyage.