“Was your brother’s berth on the main deck or below?” Johnny asked.
“That I cannot tell,” said the Professor.
“Probably main deck,” said Johnny, “but you can’t be sure. You take the larboard side of the main deck, and, Pant, you take the starboard. I’ll go below and see what I can find. Some of the staterooms will be locked. We can search the open ones first, and pry the others open later if necessary.”
As he sprang down the hatchway, he fancied he heard a sound from below. For a moment he was tempted to turn back. Then with “Probably only a sea-gull,” he dropped on down and began making his way along a dark companionway. He had not gone ten paces when he heard a soft pat-pat of footsteps. The next moment a sharp exclamation escaped his lips.
From the door of a stateroom had appeared a brown head, then another and another.
Suddenly some object whizzed past his head, to strike with a sickening spat in the wall behind him. He did not need to be told it was a knife.
The door of a stateroom stood open beside him. Instinctively he sprang inside and slammed it shut. He was not an instant too soon, for a second knife struck the door. Such force had been used in its throwing, so keen a blade it had, that the point of it struck through the wood the length of Johnny’s little finger.
“Well, now what?” he murmured.
And then he thought of his companions. How was he to warn them before it was too late?