The anxiety they were under made them hurry through their meal more quickly than usual, and they were soon at the door of the captain’s cabin.
The commander looked up with a troubled face, as, following their knock and his bidding them come in, they entered the room.
“I’m in something of a dilemma,” he began, without any preliminaries, when they had seated themselves. “A sudden sickness has come upon many members of the crew and the petty officers. The doctor diagnoses it as ptomaine poisoning, due to some defective canned goods that the steward served yesterday. I see, however, that you haven’t been affected, judging from appearances.”
“I feel fine,” replied Bob.
“If I felt any better I’d be afraid of myself,” said Joe.
Jimmy and Herb confirmed their comrades, and a look of relief came into the captain’s face.
“That’s a bit of luck,” he said, “for the ship’s especially in need of just the kind of service you boys are best qualified to render.”
“You mean in the wireless room?” asked Bob, eagerly.
“Just that,” replied the captain. “While others in the ship are ill, there are plenty of men to take their places. But the radio room is the heart of the ship, and it’s just there that the blow has hit us hardest. Johnson and Marston have been taken pretty badly, and while there’s no danger of any fatal ending, Dr. Fisher says it will be several days before either of them will be fit for duty. There are some other men in the crew that have a smattering of radio knowledge, but none of them measures up to you young fellows in that particular.”
“You can count on us, Captain!” exclaimed Bob, earnestly.