"But it's nicer to be in bed."
Ten minutes later silence reigned in the fo'c'sle. Six Sea Scouts and one dog were fast asleep.
In the after-cabin the two Scoutmasters yarned until nearly eleven o'clock, then, after taking a turn on deck to see that everything was all right, they, too, sought well-earned repose.
Between two and three in the morning Mr. Armitage was awakened by Bruin barking furiously. For some moments he listened, thinking that perhaps a nocturnal prowler was trying to get on board.
Then the barking gave place to a series of whines.
"Shut up, and go to sleep," muttered the Scoutmaster drowsily. "Why can't Stratton keep the animal quiet? Surely the fellows in the fo'c'sle can't rest with that noise going on."
For about half a minute there was silence, then the pup began barking again, his sharp voice trailing off into a melancholy howl.
"Dashed if I can stand that," soliloquized Mr. Armitage. "I'll see what's wrong with the little animal. Perhaps he's pining for his former master."
Slipping out of his bunk, the Scoutmaster gained the deck and went for'ard. As he approached the partly-open forehatch he detected the pungent smell of burning rags.
He was on the point of dashing below when he hesitated. It was not for fear of what might happen to him that caused him to pause. It was the thought that if he were overcome by the fumes the lads below might be suffocated, and no one would be a bit the wiser until it was too late.