He was through the bulkhead door and into the passageway before he had completed the order.
Lavis saw Andie pout his lower lip, and with a "T-t-t—" shift his gaze to the pit. "The blind bats!" burst from him, and he spat into the pit. "See there, sir!" he called out to Lavis.
Lavis nodded. He had already noticed it. There was a foot or so of water in the pit.
"How the devil came it there?" Andie stooped and scooped a handful of it, tasted it, and held it up for Lavis to view. "Salt! And cold. T-t-t—" Andie let his breath whistle softly through his parted teeth.
The water was rising. By and by it was over the top of the pit and crawling across the shiny deck. Andie looked about for relief.
"I'll tell him," volunteered Lavis.
"Thank you, sir. An' you might say, sir, there must be somethin' wrong wi' the bulkhead doors. They aren't closed yet."
Lavis met Linnell returning in the passageway. "Buttons in place of eyes in their heads aloft!" he was muttering. "An' for all o' forty mechanics brought specially to set things right, they can't close the doors below."
Together they waded in to where Andie was now to his knees in water. "Let be your levers, Andie, an' take a spell o' rest for yourself," commanded Linnell.
Andie slowly relaxed his fingers, pulled a bunch of waste from his hip pocket, and wiped his hands.