'Forty
winks won't do you no manner of harm.' The last thing Ken remembered was
being wrapped in a blanket. Then he dropped back on the mattress and
almost before his head reached it was sound asleep.
He woke to the purr of engines and a warm thick atmosphere smelling
strongly of oil and illuminated by white electric lamps. For the moment he
could not imagine where he was nor what had happened. It was not until he
rolled over and saw Roy lying stretched on another mattress beside him,
and Gill a little beyond, that any sort of recollection came back to him.
He stretched himself. He was sore all over, but otherwise fit enough and
very hungry. Then he sat up.
A burly figure came towards him, walking with that curiously light-footed
tread which becomes second habit in a submarine. It was Williams, the
coxswain.
'Well, young fellow me lad,' he remarked genially, 'how goes it?'
'Top hole, thanks. A bit empty. That's all.'
'If that's your only trouble, we'll soon fix it. Can you walk?'
'You bet.
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