“I guess he’s inside, farther back,” thought Bunny. “I’ll go in and ask him for a cookie. I’ll get one for Sue, too.”
Stepping within the room, in which a single electric light was burning, Bunny called:
“Hello, Mr. Jobson! Will you please give me some cookies?”
There was no answer, and, thinking he had not made himself heard, Bunny stepped farther into the room and toward the back. Again he called.
Presently he heard a sliding noise and he turned in time to see the door by which he had entered closing. It ran along a brass rail and snapped shut with a click.
“I guess it locked itself!” exclaimed Bunny. “I’m locked in! But I guess Mr. Jobson can get me out! Hello, Mr. Jobson!” he called. “The door slammed shut and locked itself. Will you please open it and give me a cookie?”
No one answered Bunny Brown.
CHAPTER XIII
A TERRIBLE NOISE
The Beacon steamed on, each hour taking her nearer and nearer to the warm, sunny southland of the West Indies. But Bunny Brown, locked in the storeroom, cared nothing for this. All he wanted was to be let out. He had even forgotten about the cookie now.
Mr. and Mrs. Brown were up on deck, sitting in easy chairs and enjoying the beautiful sight of the ocean, which, though it was rolling a bit, was not as wild as it had been during the storm.