went up and his tail straightened out, and he began to growl as if he had seen another dog.  The captain was listenin’ from the bridge, and he suspected somethin’ was wrong and rang ‘Slow down!’ just in time to save us from smashing bow on into that brigantine.  Another time he rose on his hind legs and ‘let out’ a yelp that peeled everybody’s eyes.  Then the slippery, barnacle-covered bottom of a water-logged derelict went scootin’ by a few yards off our starboard quarter.  After that the men got to dependin’ on him—­’Ought to have a first mate’s pay,’ I used to tell the captain, at which he would laugh and pat the dog on the head.

“One morning about eight bells, some two hundred miles off Rio—­we were ’board the Zampa, one of our South American line, with eighteen first-class passengers, half of ’em women, and ten or twelve emigrants —­when word came to the bridge that a fire had started in the cargo.  We had a lot of light freight on board and some explosives which were to be used in the mines in the mountains off the coast, so fire was the last thing we wanted.  Bayard—­did I tell you the dog’s name was Bayard?—­that’s what the girl called him—­was on the bridge with Captain Bogart.  I was asleep in my bunk.  First thing I knew I felt the dog’s cold nose in my face, and the next thing I was on the dead run for the after-hatch.  I’ve had it big and ugly a good many times in my life; was washed upon a pile of rocks once stickin’ up about a cable’s length off our coast, and hung to the cracks until I dropped into a lifeboat; and another time I was picked up for dead off Natal and rolled on a barrel till I came to.  But that racket aboard the Zampa was the worst yet.

“When I jumped in among the men the smoke was creepin’ out between the lids of the hatch.  We ripped that off and began diggin’ up the cargo—­ crates of chairs, rolls of mattin’, some spruce scantling —­runnin’ the nozzle of the hose down as far as we could get it.  There were no water-tight compartments which we could have flooded in those days as there are now, or we could have smothered it first off.  What we had to do was to fight it inch by inch.  I knew where the explosives were, and so did the captain and purser, but the crew didn’t—­didn’t even know they were aboard, and I was glad they didn’t.  We had picked most of ’em up at Rio—­or they’d made a rush maybe for the boats, and then we’d had to shoot one or two of ’em to teach the others manners.  In addition to every foot of hose we had ’board I started a line of buckets and then rushed a gang below to cut through the bulkhead to see if we could get at the stuff better.

“The men fell to with a will.  Fire ain’t so bad when you take hold of it in time, and as long as there is plenty of steam pressure—­and there was—­you can almost always get on top of it, unless something turns up you don’t count on.

“That’s what happened here.  I was standin’ on the coamings of the hatch at the time, peerin’ down into the smoke and steam, thinking the fire was nearly out, directing the men what to h’ist out and what to leave, when first thing I knew there came a dull, heavy thump, as if we’d struck a rock amidships, and up puffed a cloud of smoke and sparks that keeled me over on my back and nearly blinded me.