Don Winslow snapped out his light.
“The questioning had better wait, Captain,” he replied quickly. “I’ve just discovered something that may be of vital importance to us and every honest sailor aboard. Suppose we all talk it over in your cabin, as soon as this spy is safely under lock and key!”
On his way to the captain’s quarters, Don Winslow stopped by Number Three davits and waited until the lifeboat had been swung inboard with its crew. As Red Pennington stepped to the deck, the young commander seized his arm and led him back into the shadows amidships. A few quick words covered the rat-faced seaman’s capture.
“And now we’ll see what his game was, Red,” Don whispered, moving over to the port rail. “Give me a boost up into that boat with the unlashed cover and stand by for trouble. But don’t let anybody slug you from behind this time!”
“I won’t, don’t kid yourself!” muttered the stocky lieutenant, stooping to take Don’s weight. “But, say! You must have found something up there the first time, or you wouldn’t be so anxious to look again. Can’t you wait long enough to tell a man...?”
But Don was already over the gunwhale and inside the boat. This time several minutes passed before his head and shoulders appeared from under the tarpaulin.
“Take these, Red!” he said softly, passing down a loose packet of papers. “And put them out of sight. I’m coming down now.”
Swinging light to the deck, he drew his pocket gun and led the way back aft.
“Wha-what the dickens?” muttered Red Pennington in a hoarse whisper, as he shoved the papers under his waistband.
“Enlistment records—the missing ones!” hissed Don, glancing along the shadowy decks. “They were just part of what I found in the boat. If anybody tries to take them away from you between here and the captain’s quarters....”