Instantly Ruth was out of bed, and while she slipped on her bath robe and while her bare feet sought her slippers under the edge of her bunk, she cried:
“What is it, Tessie? Ruth is coming! Sister is coming!”
At once the interior of the Bluebird seemed to pulsate with life. In the corridor which ran the length of the craft, and on either side of which the sleeping apartments were laid off, a night light burned. Opening her door Ruth saw Mrs. MacCall peering forth, a flaring candle in her hand.
“What is it, lass?” asked the sturdy Scotch woman. “I thought I heard a wee cry in the night.”
“You did!” exclaimed Ruth. “It was Tess!”
In quick succession, with kimonas or robes over their sleeping garments, Neale, Mr. Howbridge and Agnes came from their rooms. But from the apartments of Tess and Dot no one came, and ominous quiet reigned.
“What was it?” asked Mr. Howbridge. “One of you girls screamed. Who was it?”
Something gleamed in his hand, and Ruth knew it to be a weapon.
“It was Tess who cried out!” Ruth answered. “All I could hear was something about her being afraid some one would catch her.”
And then again from the room of Tess came a low cry of: