Page:Cruise of the Dry Dock.djvu/80

 turned hot eyes seaward as if searching the waters, then for the first time noticed the fantastic ocean around him. He stared at it with a strange expression.

“What—what is that—where are we, Madden?” he asked with a catch in his breath.

The fellow's tremulous condition touched the American. “Tug broke away last night—we're adrift in the Sargasso.”

A look of relief came over the long face, but he still gazed at the serpentine patternings. “I—I thought I was seeing—ugh, isn't it horrible!”

“You're unstrung, Caradoc; better go lie down,” suggested Madden in considerate tones.

The mood of the Briton underwent a characteristic quick shift. “Me lie down?” he rasped. “I'll have my property. You're grabbing authority fast enough, but you'll learn Englishmen don't submit to impositions. Threw it overboard!” he laughed with sour incredulity. “Bet you have it in your cabin.”

The men stopped work, gaping at the insubordination. Madden flushed under the implication. He stepped forward to smash the long