Dr. Hallet smiled as he saw the sinister weapon in Ned’s hand. The lad did not aim at his companion, and, as a matter of fact, he had drawn the pistol more from instinct than anything else. The sudden noise, coupled with what he had gone through, had put Ned on the same sort of defensive attitude as he had been constantly under while in the trenches or on the battlefield.
“There is no need for that,” said the scientist. “I see you do not trust me.”
Ned would have blushed except for the fact that he was almost as brown as an Indian; and whoever heard of an Indian blushing?
“I beg your pardon!” exclaimed the lad. “I—I really didn’t think what I was doing. But did you hear that noise?”
“Yes, I heard something. There is some excitement up above.”
There was no question about that. The shouting and the tumult up above continued to increase, and it was evident that something serious had happened. There had been no concussion such as had taken place when the derelict hit the Sherman, but that there was danger was evident even to the scientist, who, like Professor Snodgrass, was absent-minded and let the ordinary affairs of life pass by unheeded.
“We had better go up and see what it is,” suggested Ned.
“Yes, I agree with you,” was the answer. “My explanations will keep for a while.”
Ned was of the same mind, and, putting away his weapon, he and his companion hastened out of the latter’s cabin. In the passageway leading to the main deck they encountered many sailors, marines, soldiers and officers hurrying along.
“What’s the matter? What’s happened now?” called Ned to some whom he knew.