"I guess you can get out, with a little aid," coaxed Lieutenant Jack.
Gray's answer was another groan.
"We'll help you out, then," Jack continued. "But don't you dare to open
fire upon any of our party!"
"I would, if I could," snarled the wounded man.
"Why can't you?"
"Fired my last cartridge!" snapped the wretch, defiantly. "Else you
wouldn't have got in here without losing a few men!"
Jack signed to the two men who had forced the door to lend a hand in
moving Gray out from under the berth. As they got the wounded man out
on the carpet he presented a sad picture in his bloodstained clothing.
"Will the Lieutenant pardon a suggestion?" spoke up one of the sailors,
saluting.
"Yes."
"I have a first aid package, sir. With some help I can, bind this man's
wounds until we get him over to the sick bay on the 'Sudbury.'"
"A fine idea," agreed Lieutenant Jack. "Go ahead."
First of all, the wounded prisoner was taken out into the passageway.
Jack and Eph had yet important work to do here. For a few minutes
they searched in vain. Then, in turning over the lower berth's mattress,
Eph's hand touched something hard.
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