A police inspector, taking his life in his hands, descended into the hold.
“Dead as mutton!” he announced.
The midshipman was aghast. It seemed as if the gas was far more effective than had been claimed, or the hold had proved another Black Hole of Calcutta! If so, he was “for it”. There would be a tremendous outcry in certain sections of the press, especially the native journals, concerning the inhumanity of the British to Chinese prisoners—even though the prisoners were pirates of the deepest dye!
But a further examination of the bodies revealed the fact that the pirates, rather than stand their trial, had strangled themselves with strips of their clothing.
“Saved us a lot of trouble,” commented the police inspector. “There’ll be an inquest, of course, but you’ve nothing to fear, Mr. Raxworthy.”
Shortly afterwards, having handed over his prize, Raxworthy returned on board the light cruiser Kirkham and reported for duty.
“Back again, then, Mr. Raxworthy,” commented the commander, who was in high good humour, for had not the midshipman brought no small amount of honour to the ship by his bravery and resource.
“Yes, sir.”
“The admiral has sent a signal asking you to dinner with him to-night. By the bye, I didn’t know that you were promoted to sub-lieutenant.”
“I’m not, sir,” explained the midshipman. “This is a borrowed uniform—the only one available.”