Captain Dunham put the question to Ned after the lad had breathlessly related to him his alarming discovery. High up on the bridge, his face lined by care and sleepless nights, the captain looked far different from the gilded idol that he was in calm weather or in port. He was clad in oil-skins like any old salt on a whaler.
“Absolutely, sir. I didn’t dare to say anything till I was quite positive.”
“Very good, my lad,” said the captain, without betraying a trace of the grave alarm that he must have felt for the safety of his ship. “Daniels,” he turned to a quartermaster, “send Mr. Briggs to me at once,—at once, do you hear?”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Daniels hurried off on his errand. Ned stood waiting the captain’s next orders.
“When Mr. Briggs comes on deck, I’m going to send you with him to show him where you discovered the fire, always supposing there is one,” said the captain. “Of course, you haven’t said anything about this to anyone?”
“No, sir, of course not, only to Coxswain Taylor, who was with me.”
“That’s right. A report such as that spreading through the ship might cause untold trouble.”
Mr. Briggs, a big, active man, soon came bustling up. He saluted and awaited the captain’s orders.
“Briggs, Gunner’s-Mate Strong, here, tells me that he thinks he has discovered a fire in the forward port bunkers.”