“Yes, of course it is,” assented Ned. “But from the way that pepper-pot talked of our friend I shouldn’t think they’d want to be in the same cabin.”
“Maybe they don’t want to be, but circumstances may force them to,” suggested Jerry, with a laugh. “Boys,” he went on, “I believe there’s something queer going on here aboard the Sherman. We’ve done our part in telling what we know. Now it’s up to our superior officers.”
Ned and Bob were silent for a moment. Then the stout lad broke the silence by saying:
“Well, it certainly is a mystery! I only wish we could have a talk with Professor Snodgrass—provided he’s here—and see what he has to say.”
“I wish the same thing myself,” admitted Jerry. “And now perhaps we’d better go on with our original plan, and see if we can do something to organize a little fun to kill this deadly monotony of waiting for help.”
“Yes, let’s do that,” agreed Ned.
As they started once more on their errand a commotion was heard on the deck above. The shuffling of many feet told of soldiers rushing to and fro, while there were shouts that seemed to be those of alarm.
“Hello! Something else doing!” cried Ned, as he hurried toward a companionway that led to the upper decks.
The three reached the deck together, and as they emerged into the open they were immediately enveloped in swirling clouds of white vapor.
“Smoke!” cried Bob. “The ship is on fire!”