"I should say so!"
"Excellent reasoning, Mr. Ferral!" approved Glennie.
The grin left Dick's face on the instant, and a frown took its place. He turned to the periscope abruptly.
Matt was surprised at the depth of feeling which this action on the part of his chum made manifest. Glennie settled back grimly on the locker. Carl began to hum a Dutch song under his breath—and for that Dick and Matt were thankful. If he had sung the song aloud they would have had to throw something at him. A certain Captain Pierce-Plympton, in Belize, had set the fashion, and now, whenever Carl burst into song he had to dodge everything that was handy.
In the embarrassing silence that followed Dick's action, Matt began to take off his shoes and socks.
"I've got to get into something dry," he remarked. "You fellows better make sure Tolo is well lashed, and then take him into Mr. Glennie's room. That, Glennie," Matt added, removing his water-logged coat, "used to be our prison chamber."
"A good place for me, then," observed Glennie, with a side glance at Dick and Carl.
"You might get off the locker a minute," went on Matt. "I've an outfit of clothes somewhere in that long box you're sitting on."
"Pardon me!"