"You don't look worth much; hardly worth sending you back, was it?"
I snatched at my torn monkey-jacket and pulled out the package.
"Mr. Hopkins is dying, sir. That is his will, and he wanted to know it was safe aboard here. He has left everything to Milly."
"To Milly!" said Dr. Fox, astounded. "I knew that he did meet her two or three times. Was he too in love with her?"
"Yes, sir; I think she half promised to marry him. Aren't you awfully sorry for him, sir?"
Dr. Fox smiled that cynical smile that made you want to kick him.
"I can't stop here all day," he growled. "I'm short-handed with Richardson away, and must look after my job. You have had enough fighting to last you till doomsday, so just you go down to the ammunition passages and wait there till I come."
"Can't I stay on deck, sir?"
"Do what I tell you!" he snarled, and, to see that I obeyed him, he took me down below himself.
CHAPTER XXIII