The captain called up the engine room.
"All right down there?"
"Per-rhaps," came the answer in a thick Scotch burr. "Ah was aboot to ask ye the same mysel'. We're usin' twenty perr cent more steam for the same number of rrevolutions."
"We might have run into a big patch of seaweed," suggested the first mate.
"Unship the searchlight," said the captain crisply.
A seaman came up to the bridge. He had been sent back to look at the patent log.
"We're logging eight knots now, sir."
The first mate uttered an exclamation.
"That's six knots off what we were making ten minutes ago!"
No one spoke for a moment or so, while one or two seamen worked at the lashing of the cover on the searchlight.