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Stribling, T. S., 1881-1965

"The Cruise of the Dry Dock"

He could
even make out her name in rusty letters under the wheel-house. Her small
boats were in place, but he saw neither life nor movement aboard. She
appeared as deserted as a pile of scrap iron.
"W'ot are they doin'?" queried Galton.
"Nothing." Madden was puzzled over the strange condition of the tug.
"Ain't they crowdin' to th' side, sir, lookin' at us and fixin' to come
to us?"
"Nobody's on her," replied Madden. "At least I don't see anyone."
"W'ot! W'ot! Nobody on 'er! Is she deserted, too? Just like the
_Minnie B_!" chorused apprehensive voices.
"Seems so," frowned Madden, then he made up his mind quickly and moved
over to the small boat which had been hauled up on the forward pontoon.
"Fall to, men, lower that dinghy. We'll go over and see what's the
trouble."
The crew went about their task with a sudden slump of enthusiasm.
"If the crew's gone, sir," mumbled one of the men, as he paid out the
rope, "w'ot's the use goin' across?"
"To get to the tug, of course."
"An'w'ot'll we do?"
Madden looked hard at the cockney. "Get the provisions aboard if nothing
else."
"There wasn't none on the _Minnie B_, sir."
"What's the _Minnie B_ got to do with the _Vulcan_? We're
going to run the tug and dock out of this sea, crew or no crew--ease
away on that rope, Mulcher.


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