As quick as a flash he threw open the door, crept through and closed it behind him, all but a slight crack, which he left for the purpose of keeping in touch with the outside.
“I guess we must have been dreaming,” he heard Masters grumble.
“I guess not,” promptly contradicted another cadet. “It was no dream nor nightmare, either. My leg is sore yet where the fellow gripped it. And then the racket he made——”
“Oh, shut up!” growled Crane, who was evidently angry and discomfited. “What’s the use of wasting time talking like that. Some one fell down here, of course. And I’ll bet a dollar it was that fresh plebe, Faraday. He’s always prowling around. The question is, where did he go? He couldn’t have passed me on the ladder.”
“I wonder if any of the storerooms are unlocked?” queried Masters.
Clif listened eagerly for the reply. It was reassuring.
“Rats! Of course they are locked. Don’t talk nonsense, Masters.”
It was plainly evident Crane’s temper had not been sweetened by the experience of the past few moments.
“We won’t waste any more time looking for the beggar,” he added. “Let’s get up to the berth deck and find another plebe. Dodge, you stay and keep guard over Nanny. While we are gone you might amuse yourself decorating him for the grand appearance on the quarter-deck. You will find paint and varnish and oakum back of the ladder.”