Herc, crouched within the stifling confines of the upturned packing case, heard the recorded conversation with a sinking heart. After all, then, he had been mistaken. Ned was not in the place.

Some casualty of which he had no knowledge had occurred and in the catastrophe in some way Ned, his chum, his shipmate, had been drowned. Right then Herc would not have given a straw for his own life. The thought that Ned had perished, beat into his heart like a death knell.

Careless of what the consequences to himself might be, he was about to declare himself and trust to his fists to fight his way to liberty, when he hesitated.

Kenworth, he knew by this time to be a miscreant[Pg 229] and perverter of the truth. Was it not possible, then, that he had purposely aired the report of Ned's supposed death in the hope that he (Herc) might hear him and in a moment of desperation give himself up?

The theory, based on what the Dreadnought Boy knew of the renegade midshipman, was at least tenable. After a moment's reflection Herc, now that the first shock was over, found himself unable to entertain the thought of Ned's death. It was impossible to believe that Ned Strong, the resourceful, the brave, had perished as Kenworth had described. If a weakling like the midshipman had escaped whatever disaster had happened, it was incredible that Ned had not saved himself.

"Give me a leg up, Saki,—quick; I want to be the first to confront that red-headed idiot."

It was Kenworth speaking again. Herc heard the others hoist more boxes on the top of his pile[Pg 230] and then came the sound of scrambling feet ascending the wobbly pyramid.

"Oh, what a sell for them when they find the roof is empty," chuckled Herc to himself. "I'd give a whole lot just to see their faces."

But with this reflection came another thought. When they found the roof tenantless, would they not make a further search of the room? Undoubtedly, and once they began turning things over, one of the first things they would discover would be Herc.

Under certain conditions Herc's mind worked quickly. It did so now. A sudden idea flashed into his head.

In a trice he had slipped out of his box and stood free. Kenworth had already chinned himself through the window and Saki was following him. In the room were only the spectacled Jap, the white man whom Herc had observed enter the place earlier, and one or two other Japs and white men, all hard-looking characters.

[Pg 231]

As Herc emerged from his box there came a shout from Kenworth on the roof.

"Confound it all, he's not here!"

"Whoop-ee! No, he isn't; he's right here! Wow!" Like a human battering ram, Herc charged at the pile of boxes. Crash! Bang!

The Dreadnought Boy's broad shoulder struck the wobbly pedestal like the prow of a battleship.

"Look out for squalls!" he yelled, as the boxes, in a crashing avalanche, came toppling down. The uproar was deafening.

Stricken temporarily to immobility by the suddenness of the whole thing, the spectacled Jap and the others stood spellbound for an instant as the red-headed youth, having demolished the pile of boxes, came charging at them with his bullet head bent over like a young bull's. As he rushed ferociously at them Herc gave vent to a blood curdling yell.

"Wow! Whoop-ee! Stand aside for the human torpedo!" he bellowed.

[Pg 232]

Saki, who had been in the act of clambering from the boxes through the window when the box pile collapsed, hung teetering from its ledge with his feet beating a tattoo on............