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THE SHIP THAT FOUND HERSELF

in. As it sank again, the engines—and they were triple expansion, three cylinders in a row—snorted through all their three pistons. "Was that a joke, you fellow outside? It 's an uncommonly poor one. How are we to do our work if you fly off the handle that way?"

"I did n't fly off the handle," said the screw, twirling huskily at the end of the screw-shaft. "If I had, you 'd have been scrap-iron by this time. The sea dropped away from under me, and I had nothing to catch on to. That 's all."

"That 's all, d' you call it? " said the thrust-block, whose business it is to take the push of the screw; for if a screw had nothing to hold it back it would crawl right into the engine-room. (It is the holding back of the screwing action that gives the drive to a ship.) "I know I do my work deep down and out of sight, but I warn you I expect justice. All I ask for is bare justice. Why can't you push steadily and evenly, instead of whizzing like a whirligig, and making me hot under all my collars." The thrust-block had six collars, each faced with brass, and he did not wish to get them heated.

All the bearings that supported the fifty feet of screw-shaft as it ran to the stern whispered: " Justice—give us justice."

"I can only give you what I can get," the screw answered. "Look out! It 's coming again!"

He rose with a roar as the Dimbula plunged, and "whack—flack—whack—whack" went the engines, furiously, for they had little to check them.

"I 'm the noblest outcome of human ingenuity—Mr. Buchanan says so," squealed the high-pressure cylin-

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