Scarcely had his head appeared again when
with a rush Captain Greene gained the rail. For a moment he took
aim; a steady, relentless aim. A puff of smoke marked the shot,
and the black head, bobbing on the waves, disappeared. A hand
was raised, and seemed to wave a good-by.
The boys watched breathlessly, then turned to stare at the
Captain, who was peering intently at the water. There was
something in his stern, set face that forbade questioning. For
once they were completely silenced.
When the head, did not come to the surface, the Captain turned
and went hastily down the companionway. The boys looked at each
other.
"What on earth does it all mean?" Porky demanded of no one in
particular.
They, too, hurried, down. The door of the Captain's cabin was
ajar. Colonel Bright, very pale, and supported by the purser,
sat opposite the door. When he saw the boys' anxious faces he
nodded, and they went silently to his side.
Then they saw that on the Captain's bunk a form, limp and
ghastly, was stretched out under the hand of the surgeon. It was
the Captain of the Firefly, and as they looked, the surgeon stood
upright.
"He is dead," he said briefly. He came around by Colonel Bright,
and assisted him to his feet.
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