“No,” said the youthful genius scornfully; “pretend he’s been upset from a boat, and has been swimming about, and we heard him cry out for help and rescued him.”
“It’s about the best way out of it,” said Joe, after some deliberation; “it’s warm weather, and you won’t take no harm, mate. Do it in my watch, and I’ll pull you out directly.”
“Wouldn’t it do if you just chucked a bucket of water over me and said you’d pulled me out,” suggested the victim. “The other thing seems a downright lie.”
“No,” said Billy authoritatively, “you’ve got to look half-drowned, and swallow a lot of water, and your eyes be all bloodshot.”
Everybody being eager for the adventure, except Private Smith, the arrangements were at once concluded, and the approach of night impatiently awaited. It was just before midnight when Smith, who had forgotten for the time his troubles in sleep, was shaken into wakefulness.
“Cold water, sir?” said Billy gleefully.
In no mood for frivolity, Private Smith rose and followed the youth on deck. The air struck him as chill as he stood there; but, for all that, it was with a sense of relief that he saw Her Majesty’s uniform go over the side and sink into the dark water.
“He don’t look much with his padding off, does he?” said Billy, who had been eyeing him critically.
“You go below,” said Dan sharply.
“Garn,” said Billy indignantly; “I want to see the fun as well as you do. I thought of it.”