Providentially there was a shredding of the fog at Hell Gate, a
shore-breeze flicking the mists off the surface of the water.
Then was revealed the situation which lay behind the particularly
emphatic and uproarious "one long and two short" blasts of a violent
whistle. A Lehigh Valley tug was coming down the five-knot current with
three light barges, which the drift had skeowowed until they were taking
up the entire channel. With their cables, the tug and tow stretched for
at least four thousand feet, almost a mile of dangerous drag.
"Our good luck, sir," vouchsafed the first mate. "She was howling so
loud, blamed if I could tell whether she was coming or going. She's got
no business coming down the Sound."
Captain Mayo, his teeth set hard, his rigid face dripping with moisture,
as he stood in the open window, stopped the engines of his giant charge
and jingled for full speed astern in order to halt her. He had no desire
to battle for possession of the channel with what he saw ahead.
At that moment Manager Fogg came into the pilothouse, disregarding the
"No Admittance" sign by authority of his position. He lighted a cigar
and displayed the contented air of a man who has fed fully.
"You have been making a pretty slow drag of it, haven't you, Captain
Mayo? I've had time to eat dinner--and I'm quite a feeder at that! And
we haven't made the Gate yet!"
"We couldn't do a stroke better and be safe," said the captain over his
shoulder, his eyes on the tow.
"What's the matter now?"
"A tug and three barges in the way."
"Do you mean to say you're holding up a Vose liner with eight hundred
passengers, waiting for a tugboat? Look here, Mayo, we've got to hustle
folks to where they want to go, and get them there in time."
"That tow is coming down with the current and has the right of way, sir.
And there's no chance of passing, for she's sweeping the channel."
"I don't believe there's any law that makes a passenger-boat hold up
for scows," grumbled Fogg. "If there is one, a good man knows how to
get around it and keep up his schedule." He paced the pilot-house at the
extreme rear, puffing his cigar.
He grunted when Mayo gave the go-ahead bells and the throb of the
engines began.
"Now ram her along, boy. People in these days don't want to waste time
on the road. They're even speeding up the automobile hearses."