Williamson, now able to leave his motors, came on deck, asking an account of what had happened. The machinist listened in amazement, though, like Eph, he needed no proof that the boys, whatever trouble they had encountered, had met honestly and innocently.
“Of course that naval officer is right, too, from [pg 196] his own limited point of view,” urged Williamson.
“Oh, yes, I suppose so,” nodded Somers, gloomily. “I've been trying to tell myself that. But it would be fearful, wouldn't it, if the 'Farnum' were ordered away from the fleet, and Jack disgraced, just because of things he really didn't do.”
“It's a queer old world,” mused the machinist, thoughtfully. “We hear a lot about the consequences of wrong things we do. But how often people seem to have to pay up for things they never did!”
“Oh, well,” muttered Eph, philosophically, “let's wait until morning. A night's sleep straightens out a lot of things.”
Williamson, however, having had some sleep earlier in the night, was not drowsy, now. He lighted a pipe, lingering on the platform deck. Eph, not being a user of tobacco, went below to find that Doctor McCrea, from the gunboat, was sitting in the cabin, reading a book he had chosen from the book-case.
“I've brought the young men around somewhat,” reported the physician. “I've made them throw off the drug, and now I've left some stuff with the nurse to help brace them up. They'll have sour stomachs and aching heads in the morning, though.”
[pg 197] “But you noticed one thing, Doctor?” pressed Somers.
“What was that?”
“That there were no signs of liquor about them? Those boys never tasted a drop of the vile stuff in their lives!”