"Anyone seen Laddie recently?" sang out the Lieutenant, addressing the men up for'ard.
"I saw him a-followin' you when you got aboard that tawpeda-boat, sir," declared a young able-seaman. "He were close on your heels when you jumped, sir."
"Have a look down below," continued Osborne anxiously.
A search of the fore-cabin produced no desired result. In the diminutive engine-room, the leading stoker examined every nook and cranny of the compartment housing that box of tricks of intricate machinery. Reluctantly Osborne came to the conclusion that his pet was missing. The able-seaman, questioned further, was firm in his belief that he had seen Laddie following his master, but he could not say whether the animal actually boarded the prize. Nor could any of the other men express a definite opinion on that point.
It was just possible that the dog might have missed his footing, and have fallen between the steamboat and her capture. Failing being crushed between the two craft he might have fallen into the sea, and, unnoticed in the bustle, had been lost in the darkness.
Two hours later the steamboat—the sole survivor of the three boats that had left the ship—ran alongside the Portchester Castle.
"By Jove, Osborne!" exclaimed Captain M'Bride, who in his anxiety had remained all night on deck. "What has happened?"
"They were properly on the alert, sir," replied the Lieutenant. "We were trapped, and were unable to accomplish our mission. However, we fell in with a Turkish torpedo-boat, engaged her, and compelled the crew to abandon ship. On the return run we again fell in with the torpedo-boat, took possession, and towed her until relieved by one of our destroyers."
"That evens things up a bit," remarked the skipper. "And the cutter and the whaler?"
"Had to be abandoned, sir. They found themselves on the wrong side of a boom."