Ruth was so disturbed by Irma Lentz’s statement that she did not immediately turn toward her own room. She knew where Mr. Dowd’s cabin was, and she hurried toward it.
It seemed sinister that the chief officer should have been injured just as she had sent word to him about the stowaway in the small motor boat. Ruth was convinced, without further evidence, that her discovery and attempt to reach Mr. Dowd with the information had caused his injury and had hastened the explosion.
She did not believe the latter was caused by a torpedo from a lurking submarine. The conspirators aboard the Admiral Pekhard had deliberately brought about the catastrophe.
And it smote her, too, that Mr. Dowd might now be neglected in his cabin. When the passengers and crew left in the small boats, the first officer would, perhaps, be lying helpless in his berth.
She reached the door of the officer’s cabin, and knocked upon the panel. There was nobody in sight in this passage and she heard no movement inside the first officer’s room. Again she knocked.
At last there was a stirring inside. A voice mumbled:
“Yes? Yes? Eight bells? I will be right up.”
“Mr. Dowd! Mr. Dowd!” Ruth called. “Wake up! The ship is sinking!”
“I’ll be right with you, boy,” said the officer, more briskly, but evidently not altogether himself.
“This is Ruth Fielding, Mr. Dowd!” cried the girl, hammering again on the door. “Do you need help? Come on deck quickly. The ship is sinking!”