Receiving no reply the German began cursing volubly, at the same time expressing his belief that Pfeil and Co. were dead drunk in the barge cabin and that those rascally Belgians had given them the slip.
The fellow came on board. It required considerable effort on his part, for by the time he gained the deck he was puffing and blowing. As he walked aft his spurs jangled on the metal deck. So close did he pass the hiding Barcroft that the latter could have grasped his ankles.
"Schweinhund!" exclaimed the major, for such was his rank. "I'll give Pfeil something to remember this business. Confound this rain! I'll wait for him in the cabin."
He went below. Presently Barcroft could hear the rasping of a match, and the tantalising odours of tobacco from the after-cabin.
"Now I'm done," soliloquised the flight-sub. "The penalty for inquisitiveness, I suppose. Properly dished unless——"
Seized by a sudden inspiration Billy softly threw back the corner of the tarpaulin, crept aft and closed the sliding hatch of the cabin. Before the astonished major could completely realise what was happening Barcroft had shut the massive metal hasp and had secured it by wedging a belaying pin through the staple.
"Shout as hard as you like, my festive!" chuckled the flight-sub; then he, too, realised that he had "put his foot into it." Not only that—he had jeopardised the chances of his companions.
Throwing a sack of clothing to the bank Billy leapt ashore, picked up the weighty bundle and made for the barn.
He found Fuller awake, for Kirkwood had informed him of the danger that threatened the explorer.
"We were just coming to your rescue," announced the A.P., "only we saw that you had boxed the Boche up. What's this bundle for, old bird?"