“Fog,” he grumbled, and turned over to re-capture the enchantment of the Athabasca rapids, and his dancing canoe.
Overhead there sounded the trampling of feet.
“Submarines, doc,” he shouted and leaped to the floor broad awake.
“What's the row?” murmured the M. O., who was a heavy sleeper.
For answer, Barry ripped the clothes from the doctor's bed.
“Submarines, doc,” he shouted again, and buckling on his Sam Brown, and seizing his lifebelt, he stood ready to go.
“What! your boots off, doc?”
In the orders of the day before had been an announcement that officers and men were to sleep fully dressed.
“Oh, the devil!” exclaimed the doctor, hunting through his bedclothes in desperation. “I can't sleep in my boots. Where's my tunic? Go on, old fellow, I'll follow you.”
Barry held his tunic for him.