Terence had to descend three more lengths of ladder before he reached the plates of the engine-bed. Here there were men in swarms, for the most part greasers in dungaree suits. Amongst them Aubyn spotted Kenneth Raeburn, looking very different from his spruce appearance in the engineers' mess or when he went ashore.
Raeburn and Aubyn were good pals. Whenever, between the intervals of stowing and unloading the cargo in the holds, Terence was able to get ashore, they generally contrived to be in each other's company.
The third engineer was generally voted "a decent sort" by his messmates. His case was very similar to that of Terence Aubyn; for he had been intended for the Royal Navy until a drastic modification of the regulations, whereby cadets had eventually to specialize in marine engineering, had put him out of the running. He, too, held a commission in the Royal Naval Reserve, and in the natural buoyancy of his spirits, Kenneth Raeburn often hoped for the time when Great Britain and Germany were to measure their strength for the supremacy of the sea. Then, he realized, would be the chance for mercantile officers in the R.N.R. to prove their worth as effective assistants to their comrades of the Royal Navy.
"Looking for McBride?" repeated Raeburn. "He's down the tunnel. The main-shaft bearings are seized up. Beastly job. You won't be able to get to him, old chap."
"I must," said Terence firmly.
"At the expense of your uniform then. I'll find him. Follow me."
At the head of the next ladder Raeburn paused.
"I think I've spotted the rascal," he announced. "Keep behind me. When I drop a spanner, have a look at the fellow we're passing. I'll tell you more later on."
Along the electrically lighted platform the two young officers made their way, frequently stepping over the prostrate bodies of greasers who were tackling an intricate job under the supervision of the second engineer.
With a clatter the spanner dropped on the metal floor within a few inches of a tall, broad-shouldered, fair-haired man, dressed like his companions in a very dirty boiler suit. The fellow was lying on his side with his hands above his face as he secured an intricately-placed hexagonal nut. Hearing the clatter he turned his head, stifled an imprecation, and grasping the spanner, held it at arm's length for Raeburn to take.