uarters. But the next instant all thought of
Thurman was put out of his mind. The lookout had reported from the
crow's-nest. On the far horizon a mighty cloud of dark smoke was rising
and spreading.

Before many moments had passed it was known that fire--that greatest of
sea perils--had been added to the sinking _Oriana's_ troubles.

As the news spread through the ship the passengers thronged to the
rails. Suppressed excitement ran wild among them. Even Jack found
himself unable to stay still as he thought of the lives in peril under
that far-off smoke pall. All communication with the stricken ship had
ceased, and Jack knew that things must have reached a crisis for her
crew.

Then came an order to cast loose four boats, two on the port and two on
the starboard side. Officers and men obeyed with a will. By the time
they were ready to be dropped overside, the outlines of the burning
steamer were plainly visible. She looked very low in the water. From her
midships section smoke, in immense black clouds, was pouring.

But to Jack's surprise no boats surrounded her, as he had expected would
be the case. Instead, on her stern, an old-fashioned, high-raised one,
he could make out, through his glasses, a huddled mass of human figures.
Suddenly one figure detached itself from the rest and Jack saw a pistol
raised and aimed at the lower deck. Spurts of smoke from the weapon
followed. Thrilled, Jack was about to report what he had seen to the
bridge when the third officer, a young man named Billings, came up to
him.

"You're in my boat," he said. "Cut along."

CHAPTER XXVII.

A STRANGE WRECK.

"Well, boys, we got here just in time," observed Mr. Billings, as the
boat cut through the water.

"I'm not so sure that we have arrived in time to avert a tragedy," said
Jack, and he told of the shooting that he had witnessed.

"Probably a mutiny," said Mr. Billings, with the voice of experience.
"The crews on those old tramps are the riff-raff of a hundred ports. Bad
men to handle in an emergency."

He had hardly finished speaking when, borne toward them on the wind,
which was setting from the burning, sinking ship, came a most appalling
uproar. It sounded like the shrieks of hundreds of passing souls mingled
with deep roars and screeches.

Even Mr. Billings turned a shade paler under his tan.

"In the name of heaven what was that?" he exclaimed.

As he spoke a huge tawny form was seen to climb upon the rail of t