“See!” remarked the young Intelligence Officer. “A man could hide this weapon in his closed hand, or slip it into a watch pocket. It’s deadlier than a knife in the back. Look here, Captain! No need to let the crew know just how Ahern was killed, is there? A thing like this could demoralize a ship’s company in no time!”
The grizzled ship’s master met Don’s look in thoughtful silence.
“I understand, Commander,” he said at last. “Knowing what we do, every enlisted man aboard would be suspecting his mates—afraid to turn his back for a second, for fear of feeling his wind shut off! You’re right about keeping it quiet. We’ll put poor Ahern in the bos’n’s locker, and take the key away. Then the engine crew can get busy at that broken steam line.... How long before we can get under way again, Lieutenant?”
Lieutenant Allen shook his head.
“If it were only the steam line, I’d say four or five hours, sir,” he replied dubiously. “But I saw what looked like emery dust near the main shaft bearings. If any of that stuff’s been used we might not make port for a week, if then. All depends on what we find in the next hour, sir!”
“And on how close a watch we keep after that, Captain!” put in Don Winslow. “I’d suggest an armed guard be stationed at every vital part of this ship. Lieutenant Pennington and I will help you keep watch topside, sir.”
Tossing a wink over his shoulder to Red, he turned to the ladder leading on deck.
Sometime after midnight the two young officers stood shoulder to shoulder in the shadow of a port lifeboat, the wind blowing their whispered words out to sea.
“Got your automatic handy, Red?” Don asked casually, resting an arm on the ship’s rail. “We’re part of that guard I mentioned to Captain Riggs, you know. The difference is that we’re not stationed anywhere in particular.”
“I cleaned and loaded my gun before mess gear blew this evening,” young Pennington answered. “But, say! Do you really think there’ll be another attempt to put the Gatoon out of commission?”