CHAPTER XXIII

Trapped "'Tain't quite all ship-shape, is it, sir?" enquired Petty Officer Chalmers, who, ignorant of the Russian language, could only base his surmise upon the fact that Klostivitch had suspiciously made himself scarce. "I'm afraid not, Chalmers," replied Fordyce. "We took too much for granted, and pal Vladimir has sold us a dog. Don't move till I strike a match; there may be booby-traps about." The glimmer of the lighted match revealed the lamp. Either by accident or design Klostivitch had left it on the floor…