There was nothing but the dull and constant hum of the engines and the almost insufferable heat.
"The other side," said the captain in a lowered voice, as they failed to find any trace of the imprisoned lieutenant where they were.
They were crossing a short gallery when Slim abruptly signaled a halt.
"I thought I heard something," he said. "It sounded like another call."
They stood silent a moment, and then, faint and indistinct, apparently from somewhere several feet ahead of them, they both heard repeated that which had made Slim stop. As the letters were tapped off upon the pipe the lad repeated them for the information of the captain.
"S-M-O-T-H-E-R-I-N-G."
"Smothering!" echoed the commander of the ship. "Great Scott! I believe I know now where he is. This way," and he started down the passageway toward a narrow stairs leading to a still lower chamber in the vessel.
Three turns—two to the right and one to the left—and the captain stopped again to listen. Seemingly from within the wall, right at their elbows, there came a feeble knock. The officer whipped out a pocket flashlight. They were directly in front of a heavy wooden door. It was locked.
"Run get a cold chisel or a heavy screwdriver and hammer," the captain ordered, and Slim hastened away, to return two minutes later with all three tools.
"Stand back as far as you can from the door," said the captain, placing his lips close to the keyhole. But there was no response from within.