Evarts half-awoke, then realized that the boat was moving.
"Who started this craft against my orders ?" he drowsily demanded, as he sat up.
"I did," Tom retorted witheringly, "though I didn't hear your orders to the contrary." "You---Mr.Reade ?" gasped the foreman, leaping to his feet.
"Yes---and a fine fellow you are to trust!" Tom rejoined.

"I leave you with very definite orders, and you go to sleep.

Then there's another explosion out on the wall and you sleep right along." "Another explosion ?" blurted Evarts, rubbing his eyes with his fists.
"Here, let me have that wheel, sir.

I'll have you out there quick!" "You've nothing more to do here," Tom answered, dryly, without yielding the wheel.
"What do you mean by that ?" Evarts cried quickly.
"Can't you guess ?" wondered Reade.
"Mr.Reade means," said Conlon, who had come forward, "that we're fired---discharged." "Nonsense!" protested Evarts.
"Conlon has guessed rightly, as far as you're concerned," Tom continued.
"To-morrow, Evarts, you go to Mr.Renshaw and get your pay.

As for you, Conlon, you're not discharged this time.