text: CHAPTER XVIII 
  
  IN NORWAY AT LAST 
  
  There is no denying the fact that Dave was startled. It was one thing to have Roger missing, it was quite another to have his chum gone and have the berth made up as if it had never been occupied. 
  
  "He went to bed--I saw him go," muttered the boy from the country to himself. "Am I dreaming, or what can the matter be?" 
  
  The more Dave thought over the affair the more was he puzzled. As quickly as he could, he put on some of his clothing and slipped on his shoes. Then he opened the stateroom door and stepped out into the passageway leading to the main saloon. 
  
  There was a dim light burning outside, and nobody appeared to be in sight. Dave looked up and down the passageway eagerly, and even stepped to one of the corners. Then he walked to the main saloon, with its big sofas and easy-chairs, and its grand piano. Not a soul was in sight anywhere. 
  
  "Well, if this isn't the queerest yet," he murmured, and pinched himself, to make certain that he was not dreaming. He walked to one end of the saloon and then to the other, and then started for the stairs leading out on deck. 
  
  At that moment there came an extra-heavy gust of wind and the steamer rocked violently. Dave was thrown on his side and fell headlong over the end of a sofa. As he went down he heard several cries, one in a voice that sounded familiar to him. 