y
places into which they had been able to look for the missing wrench
were the same places that had been vainly examined twice before.

This time it seemed to cause pain even to sit down. How much longer
could the torment last, ere death came mercifully to their relief?

"It seems as though I ought to reach out my hand and lay it on the
wrench," muttered Captain Jack Benson, to Henderson, next to whom he
found himself sitting.

The former boatswain's mate smiled a ghastly smile, his eyes glowing
bright like coals. Jack turned, with a shiver, away from the strange
glint in the big fellow's eyes.

"Friends," said Mr. Farnum, presently, "we may as well realize the
whole situation, and agree to face it like men. We can't find the
wrench. Wherever it is, we are not going to find it. The little
breathable air that is left us here is not going to last more than a
few minutes. We will not waste any more of that air in getting up to
make useless searches. Let us be as calm as possible. Perhaps each
man had better look down at the floor, and so continue to look. At
the end--the end!--let no one, I beg of you, raise his eyes to
witness the final sufferings of any comrade."

There was an awed pause.

"Is that agreed to?" asked Farnum, huskily.

"Yes," came in hoarse whispers. There was another long silence--long as
time must now be measured, for a breath, now, was as long as an hour on
the surface.

It was big Bill Henderson who spoke next.

"Gentlemen," he announced, "the lord of battles and of spring flowers
and breezes is displeased with us. He is taking this method to punish
us as we deserve. Yet in that punishment we shall find pardon, too.
Though we suffer now, we shall know joy when this life is ended."

Somehow, the speech stirred up resentment in the minds of the hearers.

"Could any death be more glorious?" demanded the seaman. "We are
blessed with the privilege of serving as our own sacrifices!"

"The poor chap's mind is going first," whispered Mr. Farnum, pityingly,
to Captain Jack.

"I don't understand what he's talking about," whispered Benson.

"Don't be surprised at that. Neither does he know," muttered Jacob
Farnum.

"Are you jesting or mocking," broke in Henderson, half-angrily, "at the
very moment when you should be getting ready for the glory of giving
the last gasp of despair?"

"Give the last gasp, if you want to," retorted Eph, with savage irony,
"and let us sit here in peac