The groaning sound came again, and then all three of the boys saw what it was. A chest of drawers made fast to the side of the stateroom, had torn loose, probably when the schooner pitched and tossed in the storm, and this chest, swaying back and forth as the vessel rolled, scraped against the floor, making a groaning, creaking noise that sounded a good deal like a man in pain. Now that the boys were close to it, the sound did not seem quite so weird, but at a little distance almost anyone would have said it was a groan.
"And that's all it was!" exclaimed Sammy.
"Yes," said Frank, "that's usually the way things do turn out."
For a moment the boys stood peering about the small cabin Then Bob said:
"Let's look around a bit more. Maybe we can find somebody, or something, that will tell how the vessel came to be drifting this way."
They opened the other stateroom doors, but inside all was in order. The bunks were made up, and there was no confusion.
"Now for the place where the crew live!" cried Sammy.
"The fo'cas'le!" exclaimed Frank. "I should think you'd know that by this time, Sammy."
But they found nothing in the quarters where the crew ate and slept to explain the mystery. Things were not as nice there as in the cabin, but there was no disorder that would show a hasty flight from the ship. The boys went to the galley, which is the kitchen of a ship, but as they found a big coal range there, and did not want to kindle a fire in that, they decided to get their meals in their own small boat, on the oil stove.