“Sure, I will,” said Ike delightedly, as he felt in his pockets to see that his automatic was safe. “I ain’t afraid of them loafers, you understand. Alex and I do the trick all right.”
Alex threw open the door at the front end of the cabin and the two wiggled into the inky void beyond.
“Well, they have gone,” said Case despondently. “The best thing we can do is to stand by the cabin door and break it down the second we hear trouble on the deck.”
“Yes,” Clay agreed, and they took up their positions. Case on one side ready to swing the axe while on the other side Clay held an automatic in either hand ready for action.
Alex and Ike pushed steadily if slowly forward. Their position was one of extreme peril. Their cargo had been well stowed but the violent rolling was shaking it loose and as they crawled, they were often hit by rolling casks and shifting boxes. This cargo was part of their trading outfit for which they had been unable to find room in the lockers. Every now and then the two boys received painful bruises from shifting boxes. It was easy to see that the cargo was fast breaking up and that they would not be able to return the way they came. At last, battered and bruised, they reached the hatch. Alex gave it a tentative push upward and it yielded easily. Evidently Teddy was not sleeping on it. He raised it to its full height and the two boys clambered up on deck. It was now broad daylight and only a glance was needed to show them their peril. The Rambler was wallowing in a heavy sea, dipping her decks under with every roll, but what was worse, not less than two hundred yards away to leeward, lay a rock-strewn shore dashed upon by the huge surges. The cabin hid the boys from the two men and Alex raising his head, shot a swift glance over its top.
It was as he expected, the two men were working over the motor, or, rather, Jud was working while Bill was cursing him volubly for not being able to make it go, to which Jud replied gently:
“Be patient, Bill. “I’ll get her going. I nearly got her that last time.”
Alex dropped down, an anxious look on his face. “It’s Teddy,” he whispered, “he’s crawling aft over the cabin top. I’m afraid they will see him and kill him. Why can’t that bear keep out of trouble?”
But it was not Teddy Bear’s intention to avoid trouble, rather he was seeking it.
The rolling of the boat had wakened him slowly to a realization of an aching head and foul taste in his mouth and a stomach that revolted at the thought even of sugar. A feeling of enmity to all men was strong within him. Dimly he recalled the drinks, the liquid which the man in the white jacket had sweetened with sugar. Clearly it was that liquid that had made him so sick. His uptilted nose caught a fain scent that reminded him of the odor of the unwashed bodies that had crowded around him the day before. Clearly they were some of his enemies who had made him so sick and had turned his blood to water. He clambered clumsily on to the cabin top just as the boys reached the hatch. His padded feet made too little noise to be heard above the sound of wind and water. He reached the other end of the cabin and dropped off on the deck below where he reared up on his hind feet. The first intimation the men had of his presence was the vision of a raising arm and a heavy smack on the side of the vicious looking Bill’s head, which sent that worthy ten feet over the stern.