A hundred and fifty yards farther out he beheld the work of the second explosion.

Some seventy-five yards in length was the new open space, where at least as much of the retaining wall as was visible above the water had been blown out.
"Slow down, Cordon," ordered Tom.

"All we want is headway." "All right, sir." Tom drifted in within a few feet of the former site of the retaining wall.
The "Morton" moved slowly by, Tom, by the aid of the searchlight, noting the extent of the disaster.
"Get back aft, Evarts," ordered the young engineer, turning and beholding the late foreman.

"We don't want you here." For a moment or two it looked as though Evarts would refuse.

Then, with a growl, he rose and picked his way aft.