“It’s certainly private,” Jim said, laughing; “but I should think Mr. Dixon had better stay, or you might have the trouble of getting him back, captain.”
“It sounds alarming,” said the skipper. “May I smoke, Miss Norah?—thank you. I’ll feel better able to bear it, with a pipe, whatever it is. Not mutiny, I hope, Jim?”
“You may think it’s nothing at all,” Jim answered “But we thought we’d better tell you.” He made his story as brief as possible, watching the captain’s face—which darkened as he heard, while Mr. Dixon’s remained frankly incredulous.
“If this is so, what’s the watch doing, Dixon?” was the captain’s first question.
“The watch is generally pretty well on the look-out,” the chief officer said. “Only a night or two before, Miss Norah, here, was telling me they raided her cabin because a light was coming from it.” He stopped, for Norah had given a hasty jump. A sudden flash of comprehension illuminated a puzzle that had remained in a corner of her mind.
“I don’t believe it was my light they saw at all!” she exclaimed. “I never could make out how it could be. Jim, don’t you think it must have been the same flashes that we saw?”
“By Jove!” said Jim. “That explains it—I couldn’t understand why they went for you and your little torch.”
“You might tell me what it means,” said the captain, patiently. “I’d know more if you did!”
“My port was open—but the curtain was drawn across it,” Norah explained. “I wanted some toothache stuff, so I was using my little electric torch—it’s only a wee one, and I’m just certain it couldn’t throw any light through the curtain and outside. But the quartermaster came down and complained. I don’t believe it was my cabin at all that they saw—it was the one we were watching last night.”
“Yes,” exclaimed Wally, “and, ten to one, whoever it was heard the quartermaster raiding you, and profited by the warning. And then he thought of fitting in his wind-scoop so that it would shut out his light from the deck above.”