“Seen anything of my skipper?” he asked with an assumption of ease.
“No,” said one of them shortly.
“Not for hours and hours,” added the other with equally ominous brevity.
“Hours and hours?”
“Yes. He was looking for you. Making knots all round the yard.”
“Why so anxious?”
“Commandant’s looking for you now.” Rankin hid his anxiety by threatening to slay the last speaker.
“But why? Why? Let me in on the mystery, won’t you?”
“Leggo, you deserting ruffian! Why? Because your ship put out from her berth under telegraphic orders at just about five bells this afternoon. That’s why. Now you’d better go hide till you can think up a good excuse.”
Smash! The bomb had fallen! No wonder the whole navy-yard had been looking for him. Missing ship was a serious enough thing in itself; and when it had happened in the face of direct orders it became a matter for the outraged attention of the commandant himself, with prospects of Court martial looming dark in the immediate background.