WHAM! BANG!
A tongue of flame had lanced out from behind the darkened galley. In the same split second had come Don’s answering shot. Without pausing the young commander leaped straight toward the source of attack.
Red, pounding at Don’s heels, tugged out his pistol.
“I’ll take the starboard side!” he yelped as Don darted to port.
It seemed that the enemy, whoever he was, must be trapped, or he would have to break away in full view and get shot.
Yet it was Red Pennington whom Don bumped into, just abaft the galley.
“G-gosh! I nearly shot you, Don!” gulped the stout lieutenant. “Where’n thunder did that bird go, anyway? I was sure you were he, till I got a second look!”
For answer Don seized the knob of the galley door. It flew open to reveal a dimly lighted interior, fragrant with the smell of brewing coffee. Backed up in a corner stood Johnson, the colored cook, brandishing a razor-sharp meat axe.
“Stay right wheah yo’ are, befo’ ah scattahs you’ brains!” wailed the terrified man.
Don stepped calmly across the threshold.