"Rats!" ejaculated the Patrol Leader.
Hayes kept silent for a considerable time. He was not altogether sure about the sense in which Desmond had used the word "Rats". He might have meant it as a deprecatory ejaculation. He hoped that he had, because he was afraid of rodents. It was a fear that he had never yet been able to conquer, although in other respects he was a plucky little youngster.
The gnawing sound began again. Hayes, who was sleeping, or rather lying on the floor on top of a number of blankets, realized the possibility of the rat gnawing a hole through the panelling of the fo'c'sle. In that case he being on the floor would be the one to be favoured with the brute's attention.
Doubling his fist Hayes tried to thump the floor in the hope of scaring the rat. Unfortunately he forgot that the Olivette's tenderfoot, little Willis, was occupying a made-up bed close to him. So instead of smiting the board Hayes dealt his opposite number a hefty whack in the ribs.
"What's that for?" demanded the astonished Willis, only half awake in spite of the blow.
"Rats," whispered Hayes hoarsely.
"Silly owl!" retorted Willis. "If you are trying to be funny——"
"I'm not," interposed the other seriously. "There are rats on board. Sorry, I didn't mean to biff you. I was trying to scare them away. Listen."
Both lads listened. Beyond the occasional rasp of the mooring-chain and the steady ripple of the wavelets there was silence.
"You've scared it," said Willis at length. "We get a rat on board occasionally—when we are lying alongside a quay. It's nothing to make a song about. You'll soon get used to it. It's in the bilges if it's anywhere. No chance of getting in here. 'Sides, the poor blighter would be scared stiff."