Instantly after the first break Orde had commenced running out over the booms from the shore.
“Good boy, Tom!” he shot at North as he passed.
Across the breast of the jam he hurried, and to the other bank where the pile-driver lay. The crew had recovered from their panic, and were ashore gazing curiously underneath the scow. Captain Aspinwall examined the supports of the derrick on deck.
“That was lucky,” said Orde briefly to Aspinwall. “How's the damage? Stove you in?”
“I--I don't think so,” replied the captain, turning a rather perturbed face to Orde.
“That's good. I'll send over the tug to help get her afloat. We've got our work cut out for us now. As soon as you're afloat, blow your whistle and I'll come over to tell you what to do.”
“You don't expect me to work my driver under the face of that jam!” cried the captain.
“Not me!” said Aspinwall positively. “I know when I've got enough!”
“It isn't safe,” replied the captain; “and I don't intend to risk my men or my driver.”
Orde stood for a moment stock-still; then with a snort of anger he leaped to the deck, seized the man by the neck and thrust him bodily over the side to the bank.
“Safe, you white-livered skunk!” he roared. “Safe! Go over in the middle of that ten-acre lot and lie down on your face and see if you feel safe there! Get out; the whole pack of you! I'm in charge here now.”
Captain Aspinwall picked himself up, his face red with anger.
“Get off my driver,” he snarled. “Put that man off.”
“This driver is requisitioned,” said he. “Get out! I haven't time to fool with you. I've got to save my logs.”
They hesitated; and while they did so Tom North and some others of the crew came running across the jam.
“Get a cable to the winch,” Orde shouted at these as soon as they were within hearing. “And get Marsh up here with the SPRITE. We've got to get afloat.”
He paid no more attention to the ejected crew. The latter, overawed by the rivermen, who now gathered in full force, took the part of spectators.
A few minutes' hard work put the driver afloat. Fortunately its raft of piles had not become detached in the upheaval.
“Tom,” said Orde briskly to North, “you know the pile-driver business. Pick out your crew, and take charge.”