The long drawer under Borckman's bunk caught his eye.
The wooden button that held it shut was gone, and it was far out and hanging at an angle that jammed it and prevented it from falling to the floor.

The matter was serious.

There was little doubt in his mind, had the drawer, in the midst of the squall of the previous night, fallen to the floor, that no _Arangi_ and no soul of the eighty souls on board would have been left.

For the drawer was filled with a heterogeneous mess of dynamite sticks, boxes of fulminating caps, coils of fuses, lead sinkers, iron tools, and many boxes of rifle, revolver and pistol cartridges.

He sorted and arranged the varied contents, and with a screwdriver and a longer screw reattached the button.
In the meantime, Jerry was encountering new adventure not of the pleasantest.