It seemed to him that he must have been asleep several hours when Fluff’s shrill barking aroused him, and, sitting bolt upright in bed he observed, much to his surprise, that none of the men, with the exception of the cook, who regularly retired at an early hour, had been in the sleeping-room.
Covering Fluff’s mouth to still his barking, Benny listened.
It was evident Joe Cushing had just come in from patrol, and was making a report of rather an alarming nature.
“In addition to the laboring of the steamer, one of the lighters appears to be dragging anchor, and if she sweeps down upon the stranded craft there’ll be no more work for the wreckers.”
Benny was out of bed in an instant, for he knew that the crew would set about repairing the mischief without delay, and it was not his intention to be left behind.
Dressing hurriedly, he descended the stairs just as the men were putting on their oiled clothing, and without comment he began following their example.
“Hello, No. 8, what are you about?” the keeper asked.