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CHAPTER XV TOWED!
 When the American pushed outside with his burden, a breeze swept the deck of the Vulcan with an unexpected coolness. The vibrations2 had almost ceased, but there was a slight hissing3 of water from somewhere, and a feeling of movement. The men were in a hubbub4 on the port side where the small boat lay tied.  
Filled with the idea that the ship was about to founder5, Madden stared about. To his vast astonishment6, he discovered the tug7 was not sinking, but moving. The Vulcan was under way. The noise he heard was the swift displacement8 of water. For some unaccountable reason, the vessel9 glided10 southward at a speed of eight or ten knots.
 
In the uproar11 forward, Madden heard the cries: "Th' dinghy's swamped!" "We carn't reach 'er!" "Cut 'er loose and jump!" "We couldn't right 'er in th' water!" "Cut 'er and jump! Quick! 'Eaven knows w'ot's got us!"
 
"Steady! Steady, men!" bawled12 Madden, laying Caradoc down on the deck and hurrying across to his panicky crew. "What's moving us?"
 
"We don't know, sir! Th' sea sorpint! Grabbed our cable and made off!"
 
"Can you see it?"
 
"Just make it out, sir, ahead!"
 
"Cut th' cable!" cried another voice; "that'll get us loose!"
 
"Yes, get an axe13—Quick!"
 
A dim figure came running aft past Madden for the axe. The American shouted at him: "Come back! Don't touch that towing line! Let things alone!"
 
"Yes, but this'll drag us to the bottom!" chattered14 one of the men forward.
 
"We'll get in the dinghy when the ship goes down!"
 
"We might row to the dock from here!"
 
The men stood in a string along the rail, below them in the hissing water the dinghy tossing topsy turvy.
 
"What's towing us? I don't see it?" cried Madden.
 
Several arms pointed15 forward. Leonard peered through the gloom. The crescent moon and the stars filtered down a tinsel light. The faint shine merely made the darkness more evident Madden seemed to catch a glimmer17 of a bulk at the end of the anchor line some hundred yards distant. He listened but heard only the gurgle of the Vulcan's wake and the creak of her plates.
 
When the sheer panic of surprise had worn away somewhat, the weirdness18 of the uncanny voyage came upon the crew with tenfold force. They stood gripping the rail, staring ahead with the feeling of condemned19 prisoners on their way to the gallows20.
 
"We're 'eaded for the 'ole in th' sea!" muttered Mulcher.
 
"We'll go down tug an' hall," mumbled21 Galton unsteadily. "Fish bait, that's w'ot we are!"
 
"I've heard sea serpents can sting a man and numb23 him so he won't live or die," shivered Hogan, "like a spider stings a fly."
 
They spoke24 in half whispers under the influence of the unknown terror.
 
"If anything happens, I shall keel myself," declared Deschaillon, with nervous intensity25, "but I shall see it first."
 
"That's w'ot went with the other two crews—killed theirselves," chattered Mulcher.
 
Another silence fell. The cool breeze came as a sort of mockery of their unknown peril26. For the first time since the storm every man was thoroughly27 comfortable physically28.
 
"Boys," planned Hogan, "whin th' thing comes aboard, we'll put up th' best foight we can!"
 
"It don't come aboard—it bites a 'ole in th' 'ull."
 
"Aye, like th' Minnie B."
 
Just then a figure approached the men unsteadily, and Madden saw that Caradoc had recovered consciousness and was able to walk. As the tall, gaunt figure approached, the crew eyed him as if he were some new danger, then he asked.
 
"What is this? Are we moving?"
 
"Yes we're off," replied Madden.
 
"Under our own power?" he inquired, turning around and staring at the smokeless funnel29.
 
"No, we're being towed."
 
"Towed! Towed!" exclaimed Smith in a weak voice. "What's towing us?"
 
"We don't know, sor," replied a cockney.
 
There was a silence in which Caradoc stood tall and cadaverous as a ghost. "Am I dreaming this, Madden?" he muttered finally. "Did you say we were being towed?"
 
"That's right."
 
"What's towing us—not—not the dry dock—don't say the dry dock's towing us!"
 
"We don't know, sor," repeated the cockney.
 
"Where are we going?"
 
"To be killed, sor."
 
Caradoc moved slowly over to the rail and sat against it near Madden.
 
"A cool breeze," he murmured gratefully.
 
The American was lost amid the wildest speculations31 as to the mysterious agent that had the Vulcan in tow. He was trying to think logically, but found it hard in that atmosphere of terror. The utter weirdness of the whole affair defied analysis. The towing of the Vulcan by an unknown power was the very climax32 of the fantastic. No hypothesis he could form even remotely approached an explanation.
 
It could not be some sea monster surging steadily22 at the tow line of the Vulcan. That theory was untenable. A monster might attack; it would never tow.
 
But any other, attempt to account for the strange predicament fell equally as flat. What human agency would operate so mysteriously in this hot, stagnant33 sea? Why should any group of men entrap34 the helpless crew of the Vulcan with such a display of mystery and power? It was useless. It was ridiculous. It was shooting a mosquito with a field gun.
 
All his thoughts ended in utter absurdity35. He felt that he had run up against some vast power. The schooner36 Minnie B, the tug Vulcan, were but trifling37 units in the enigma38 of this deserted39, weed-clogged sea. It must be some power whose operations were ocean-wide.
 
Why such a spot should be chosen?—Why a power that sank one ship out of hand and towed another mile after mile?—Why it operated only at night?—What lay at the heart of this brooding fabric40 of terror—he could not form the slightest conception. Outlawry41, piracy42, smugglery, were all goals too small for such operations.
 
His thoughts seemed to be physical things trying to clamber up the smooth polished side of an enormous steel plate. They made not the slightest progress. The more he thought, the more unaccountable all phases of the question became.
 
In absolute perplexity, he turned to the Englishman at his side. He could just make out the blur43 of Caradoc's face.
 
"Have you a theory about this, Smith?" he asked in a low voice.
 
The Englishman nodded in silence.
 
"What is it?"
 
"I—I got my head hurt awhile ago. I believe I'm delirious—dreaming."
 
Leonard thought this over without any feeling of amusement. "That doesn't explain why I see it too," he objected gravely. "Nothing wrong with my head—that I know of." He tried the time honored experiment of pinching himself.
 
"I shall assume that I am awake," he decided44 after he had felt his pinch. "I may not be, but I'm going to act as if I were."
 
Madden had an impression that Caradoc was smiling in the darkness. Just then Gaskin began laughing shrilly46 in a queer metallic47 voice.
 
"Quit that!" snapped half a dozen thick voices at once, as if his laughter had violently shocked their tense nerves.
 
Gaskin pointed a stumpy arm off the starboard bow, "Look! Look!" he gasped48. "It's that rotten whiskey! Whiskey done it! Whiskey made me see that! Look w'ot whiskey done!"
 
Leonard had no idea that anything could be added to the nightmarish quality of the adventure, but there off the starboard arose a great bulk, blotting49 out the stars. It was not a ship; it was not a barge50; there was not a light on it, but it seemed somehow dimly illuminated51. It was as shapeless as death.
 
"The Flyin' Dutchman!" shuddered52 Galton.
 
"It burns a blue light!" corrected Hogan with chattering53 teeth.
 
"Th' ship o' the dead!" shivered Mulcher.
 
A sudden explanation flashed into Madden's head. "You fools are afraid of our own dry dock," he whispered briefly54. "We've traveled in a circle and reached the dock again."
 
"Oh, no, sor, it ain't that! Tain't th' dry-dock, sor!" aspirated several fear-struck voices.
 
The crew held their breaths as if the apparition55 might vanish as suddenly as it appeared.
 
By this time the moon lay flat on the sea, throwing a faint shining streak56 across the dark Sargasso. This vague light was enough to show Madden, when he took a close look, that it was not the dock.
 
The thing he saw was an enormous mass without the severe angular shape of the great dock. Its outline rose crude and shapeless, as well as he could trace it among the canopy57 of stars, and gave not the slightest intimation as to what use it could be.
 
As they stared, the speed of the Vulcan slackened sensibly. The faint rippling58 of water under the prow59 ceased. The breeze fell away into a dead blanket of heat. It was as if a sweatbox had been cooped over the crew.
 
"The thing's cut loose from us," said a weary voice.
 
Hogan laughed shortly: "Everybody out—fifteen minutes for refrishmints."
 
"Yonder goes that thing!" cried Galton. "Hi can see it!"
 
Indeed, by peering carefully, Madden could follow the slender outline of the mysterious craft that had towed the Vulcan to this uncanny spot. It had now left the tug and was gliding60 away to the great misshapen fabric that sprawled61 on the sea.
 
Every eye strained to see the outcome of this strange maneuver62, when suddenly from the gliding vessel there shot a dazzling light that spread over the bulky mass. Under the beating illumination every detail of the huge vessel stood out garishly63. She was immense, with a broad flat prow like a railway ferryboat. She stood high in the water and seemed to have three promenade64 decks around her.
 
There was no mast, no rigging, no outside gearing. One squat65 funnel amidship told that she used steam for some purpose, and out of this funnel black masses of smoke rose slowly in the motionless air. She resembled no craft Madden had ever seen.
 
Notwithstanding her enormous size, everything about the vessel impressed Madden that she was built for secrecy66. She was squat, considering her length and breadth. It was as if her designer were trying to make a craft invisible at sea. As near as Madden could determine in the strange light, she was painted a pale sky-blue. During the day, no doubt, she melted into the sky like a chameleon67.
 
As the smaller craft approached its huge mate, its circle of light contracted until it finally concentrated into a dazzling white spot centered on the prow of the monster. This spot diminished to an intense point, like an electric arc between carbons. A sharp reflection of this point streaked68 the water between the tug and the mysterious vessels69.
 
Then, under the unbelieving eyes of the crew, the little vessel ran completely into the larger one and was gone. The light vanished instantly. Utter blackness fell over the dazzled eyes of the watchers.
 
There were gasps70, explosive curses of bewilderment,
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