s the
stranger's bows before she reached the flagship.

The launch was showing no lights, and the torpedo-boat--if such she
was--was still too far away for a hail to reach her. Jim was therefore
in hopes of taking her by surprise, and ordered the men to maintain
perfect silence, but to be ready to open fire directly he gave the word.

Closer and closer the two converging craft swept toward each other,
until barely a quarter of a mile separated them, and then, just at the
critical moment, when Jim was about to shout his challenge across the
water, an accident happened which had well-nigh proved disastrous for
the Chilians. A seaman who had remained behind in the cockpit was
ordered to go forward and join the crew of the Gatling gun, which it was
now discovered was one man short, and in clambering along the narrow
strip of deck which ran round the little steamer the man stumbled and
dropped his rifle. Unluckily, the weapon fell muzzle downward, and the
fixed bayonet dropped edgewise into the tiny crank-pit. There was a
sudden shock and a noise of cracking metal, and the screw ceased
revolving with a jerk that shook the launch from stem to stern, while
her way, of course, fell off immediately.

"_Caramba_!" ejaculated Jim, keeping one eye fixed upon the spark of
light which was now rapidly travelling past them, "if we can't put that
machinery right in two minutes, then--good-bye to the _Blanco_! Quick,
Terry, is there any hope, do you think?" he asked, dropping on one knee
beside his chum, who had already shut off steam and was crouching over
the machinery.

"Wait a bit, Jim," replied Terry, working away like a madman with
spanner and screw-wrench; "if I can but loosen this nut I can disconnect
this bent rod and replace it in half a jiffy."

The young man heaved and strained at the spanner, with the perspiration
dripping off his forehead, but he could not get the refractory nut to
turn. The stout steel handle quivered under the strain, and Terry's
muscles stood out on his bare arms like whipcord, but still the nut
would not budge. In a second Jim threw his strength into the balance;
the spanner showed signs of slipping round the nut, but the next second
it flew round, and the nut gave at last.

It was then only a few seconds' work to take out the bent rod and
replace it with a new one; but the suspected torpedo-boat had by that
time drawn ahead of the launch. Jim, however, was not the sort of man
to say "die