"All the same," said Captain Bullock, "it was a smart piece of work. At my age I'd think twice before taking on a job of that sort. If I had to do it I'd do it, you'll understand, but these youngsters often rush into danger when there's no particular call for it; not their duty, in a manner of speaking. I'm rather curious to know what he did when that pirate collared the _Donibristle_. He told a lot about the affair, but precious little about his share in it." "Peter had a pretty stiff time, judging from what he told me," observed Captain Mostyn. "Amongst other things he still bears the scars of eighteen wounds he received when the _Donibristle's_ wireless-cabin was demolished by a shell." "Eighteen, by Jove!" exclaimed Captain Bullock. "I had one--a beauty--in the war. Splinter from a four-inch shell when Fritz torpedoed the old _Harkaway_ and fired on the boats. But eighteen!" "Yes," commented Captain Mostyn. "He's seen more adventures during his short time in the Merchant Service than I did in thirty-seven years in the navy. During the whole of my sea service I never saw a shot fired in anger. Very good, I'll be on board at four o'clock to sign those papers. Do you mind giving my boy leave till then?" Captain Bullock readily gave the required permission, and father and son had an enjoyable spell ashore. By four o'clock most of the steelwork was safely stowed in the hold. Only a few crates of small parts remained to complete the all-important consignment for the Kilba Protectorate Government. "That's all shipshape and Bristol-fashion, sir," remarked Captain Bullock, as the necessary signatures were appended to the papers in connection with the shipment. "If that precious lot isn't delivered safe and sound in Pangawani Harbour by the first of February it won't be the fault of Antonius Bullock." CHAPTER VIII The Passengers At high water that night the S.S. _West Barbican_, drawing eighteen feet for'ard and twenty-four aft, left Brocklington Harbour, crossing the bar with less than five feet of water under her keel. Fortunately the weather had moderated, the wind flying round off the land, otherwise she might have been detained for days, owing to the condition of the bar. The ship was now making for Gravesend to pick up passengers and mails, and thence for East Africa according to her usual programme. Peter went on watch at ten that night with the unalluring prospect of remaining on duty till midday--perhaps longer--since Partridge and Plover, who had bucked up considerably during the vessel's stay in port, promptly showed signs of internal troubles the moment the bar was crossed. It was not a prearranged case of malingering. There was no doubt about it: they had been ill. Neither knew of the burning of the oil-tanker, and of the dangerous position of the _West Barbican_ when she proceeded to the rescue, until late on the following morning, and even then they received the news apathetically.