Chapter XIV
TROUBLE AHEAD
“Isn’t that someone pounding the door?”
“You tell ’em!” sleepily suggested the chief, covering his face with a pajamaed arm to shut out the morning light.
“Oh, Lord!” Bill groaned and crawled out of bed. He glanced at his wrist watch. It was exactly seven-thirty.
He unlocked the door and a steward clicked his heels together and stood at attention.
“Well?” growled Bill.
“Commander Geibel’s compliments, sir—and will the gentlemen be good enough to meet him at half past eight in the executive office for officers’ conference.”
“Right-o. Give Commander Geibel our compliments—and say we’ll be there.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Bill shut the door, and looked over at Osceola. The chief was fast asleep again. Bill went into the bathroom, where an ice-cold shower worked wonders. When he returned to the cabin after a strenuous rub with a rough towel, he carried a dripping sponge with which he scientifically massaged Osceola’s face.