“Ding-ding! Ding-ding! Ding-ding! Ding-ding!”
The ship’s bell clock sounded out eight bells. Ned and Herc, on watch in the conning-tower, exchanged significant glances. Midshipman Stark was at the wheel, but knowing nothing of the plans on foot, the chiming of the hour meant nothing to him, but that the night was slipping by extremely slowly.
As the last strokes of the bell died away, a hail of “all’s well” came from the engine room.
It was echoed from the conning-tower, where the boys stood with beating hearts. The hour that was to witness their ruse had struck. Presently Lieutenant Parry’s foot sounded on the rounds of the steel ladder.
“Strong and Taylor, come below,” he ordered, in a sharp voice. His tones were low, however.
Both boys instantly obeyed. Their hearts beat a little faster than usual as they descended into the cabin. They were about to attempt a somewhat risky bit of business. Both the supposed plotters were desperate-looking men, and the conversation the lads had overheard did not lead them to suppose that the additions to the Lockyer’s company were any less bad than they looked.
“Now, I’ll go to the door,” said the officer, as the two young blue-jackets faced him, “and give the alarm. Then you leave the rest to me, but the instant the cabin is empty, you dive in there and examine the box.”
The boys nodded.
“Aye, aye, sir!” they said, as if they had received a routine order of some sort.
The officer crossed the cabin floor in a couple of strides. Going to the door of the two Italians, he turned the handle. It was unlocked. Fortune favored him then. He could arouse them without awakening anyone else. But as he opened the door a strange thing happened. One of the men sprang suddenly upright and, for an instant, seemed to be about to spring at the officer’s throat. The next instant he subsided with a low laugh.