Reaching out haphazard in the darkness he grasped something soft and yielding. It was a leg. It was Clif’s turn to give something a yank, and he did so with a will.
“Let go! What do you mean, confound it! Let go, I say, or I’ll break your head.”
Clif calmly gave a second yank, and his victim sprawled back upon the deck.
“Stop that racket down there,” whispered a voice halfway up the ladder. “Sh-h! keep quiet and we’ll be all right. I don’t think they heard it on the quarter-deck.”
Clif released his hold of the leg. He saw it was time to retreat. As he started to slip up the ladder he remembered Nanny.
“It’ll never do to leave him in their hands,” he murmured.
Stepping back, he felt around for the little prisoner. It was all guesswork in the profound darkness, and he met with small success. At last he stumbled over some object which gave a muffled groan, but before he could investigate further he heard several cadets descending the ladder.
“Everything all right?” whispered a voice near him.
“Yes,” came from Crane. “The officer of the deck is snoozing, I guess. The racket woke up the berth deck, but the fellows won’t bother us. I ran across that Jap, Trolley, near the hatch. He was prowling about as if he was onto us. We’ll have to wait now until things quiet down.”
“Who was the duffer who fell down the ladder?” asked another of the gang.