"Send 'em up in a bowline," suggested Branscombe.
"Hardly good enough," objected the Lieutenant. "I'll carry them up, one at a time."
Placing Peter on his back and holding on to one paw, Farnborough began his somewhat hazardous climb. All went well for the first half, and then a catastrophe occurred. It was owing to a large ginger cat that was prowling along the very edge of the quay. Peter spotted her, and began barking. The feline arched her back and spat defiance. This insult was more than the sheep-dog could stand. He began to struggle furiously. His master's admonition to "shut up" was ignored. The next instant Farnborough's feet slipped on the slimy rung, and, hampered by the heavy animal, he fell upon the deck.
It was a drop of about twelve feet, but sufficient to make the Lieutenant writhe. His right ankle was badly sprained, while, to make matters worse, he had struck his back against the edge of the raised cabin-top. Peter, unhurt, but genuinely concerned, began to lick his master's hand.
"Nothing much," declared Farnborough in answer to Branscombe's inquiry. "Bit of a twist to my ankle, that's all. Lucky thing old Peter wasn't hurt, the silly old ass!"
One of the men, taking each dog in turn under his arm, made the ascent in safety, and the now docile animals went off to visit a great friend—the cook at the Naval Base Canteen.
"I'll have to turn in for half an hour or so," declared Farnborough. "My ankle is giving me socks. It'll be all right soon. What? Go to the medico for a little thing like that? No, thanks; besides, we are under orders to sail at eight."
"Not the stunt?" asked Branscombe.
"No, laddie; I said it was a wash-out," replied the skipper. "It's coming off all in good time; can take your affidavit on that. . . . By Jove! that was a bit of a twister," he added with a wry smile as he carefully lowered himself down the steep companion ladder to the ward-room. "Quite all right, though. A little embrocation will soon set matters right."
Having laid himself on his bunk, Farnborough drew an envelope from the inside breast-coat pocket of his monkey-jacket.