Page:Cruise of the Dry Dock.djvu/142

 At this moment, Caradoc stirred and pulled himself to a sitting posture on the burning deck.

“You—you pulled me aboard?” he murmured weakly, looking about with the face of a corpse.

“How do you feel—anything I can do?”

“If I had a dr—” he broke off, drew a long breath. “Nobody aboard?”

“If you're all right, Greer and I will take a turn below and see what we can find,” suggested Madden.

Caradoc nodded apathetically and stared seaward toward the cable sagging into the dead ocean.

The two boys moved gingerly up to the hatchway that led down to the forecastle. If disease had smitten the Minnie B they hoped to get some clew from the taint of the sailors' quarters. Greer stuck a nose down the ladder first. Beyond the usual close ship smells there seemed to be nothing wrong. Then they climbed down.

Here again they found order. The bunks against the bulkheads and the curve of the prow were clean with neatly rolled blankets. The lockers were open and empty. The two