Dave Darrin on Mediterranean Service; or, With Dan Dalzell on European Duty

by H. Irving Hancock

CHAPTER XIV

DAN HAS VERY "COLD FEET"

Rap-tap!

That sound brought Dave Darrin out of a sound sleep. Dan slumbered on.

"Who's there at this hour of the night?" asked Dave, through the door, in the best Italian he could muster.

"From the 'Hudson,'" came the answer, in a voice so low that Dave did not recognize it.

"One minute, then."

Dave slipped back, shaking his chum to rouse him, then drew the curtains around Dalzell's bed.

In record time Dave drew on his own shirt, slipped into trousers, put on collar, cuffs and tie, and followed this with coat and vest.

Then he stepped to the door, opening it. Repressing his natural cry of astonishment, Dave silently admitted his visitors, next closed and locked the door.