We didn't have to open more than one of the seat cushions and, lucky thing, we found it full of excelsior.

That makes a good smudge.
"Only you've got to treat it," Wig said.
"Treat it!" I said; "I'll treat it to all the ice cream it can eat, if it'll only help you to send the message." I was feeling good now.
"Take it down in the bilge and treat it," he said, very sober like, to one of his patrol.
"Don't let it spend a cent," I called after him.
But I didn't go because I could see he would rather have Ravens help him.

You can't blame him for that.

In about half a minute they came upstairs and they had a lot of the excelsior all damp, but not exactly wet, and I don't know how they got it that way, except I know there was bilge water down under the flooring.

They're a lot of crackerjacks on signalling, I'll say that much for them.