The lieutenant-commander smiled.
“You’ve missed the bus!”
Raxworthy’s face fell. This was a catastrophe! Through no fault of his own he would be unable to report for duty in Sandgrub, and his chance of “smelling powder” up the Yang-tse had vanished. It might never recur.
Buster’s owner heard his story sympathetically.
“Sorry, Raxworthy,” he said kindly. “You’ll have to remain aboard us till we rejoin the Flag. I’ll wireless the admiral and report that you’re safe. And, unless I’m much mistaken, you won’t regret it, ‘cause we, like Sandgrub, have a little job of work in hand. There’s a nice little nest of pirates over yonder, and we’re under orders to make things hot for them.”
Midshipman Raxworthy positively beamed.
He wasn’t altogether sure that Sandgrub would be in action up the Yang-tse; but from the lieutenant-commander of the Buster’s words there was every prospect of the destroyer being in the thick of it before very long.
“Good egg, sir!” he exclaimed joyfully.
