CHAPTER XVIII. JUDSON GREENE’S TREACHERY.
For one moment the five cadets stared in horror at the body, then with one accord they broke for the launch. As they did so the torpedo boat lurched abruptly to one side, tossed by a wave, and the dead man slid gently after them.
As it rolled over on reaching the curve it was brought up against Judson’s legs. With a shriek of horror the lad sprang into the sea.
The splash was almost instantly followed by a second. The dead man had rolled after him.
Clif quickly regained his senses.
“Throw us a rope!” he cried, hurriedly, then over he went in a neat dive that placed him within reach of Judson as he bobbed into sight.
The two were speedily hauled on board. Judson cowered on deck, completely unstrung. Clif was still pale, but he had recovered his usual composure.
“Whew! excuse me,” he said, wringing the water from his blouse. “I don’t want any more scares like that. My teeth are chattering yet. Can you see any—anything of it, Trolley?”
The Japanese youth turned back from where he had been gazing into the sea. His swarthy face was a shade lighter, and he shook as if from cold.