“Another hunch, probably,” laughed the Commander. “He seems full of them.”
“And usually pretty near the truth at that,” put in Mr. Pauling.
Five minutes later the diver reappeared. “Some one please kick me for a blamed dub!” he exclaimed. “Here we’ve been backing and filling and talking and discussing and guessing and we might have found out the truth in a minute at any time.”
“If you’ll tell us what you’re driving at, we may understand,” said Mr. Pauling. “What’s this new discovery of yours?”
“That this bunch we’ve got on board are all blamed liars!” replied the diver. “There isn’t any such ship as the Devonshire. At least none that corresponds with their story. I’ve just gone through Lloyds’ Registry and there are only three British ships of the name. One’s a wooden bark, the other’s a little coasting steamer and the third’s a big liner.”
“By Jove!” ejaculated Mr. Henderson.
“You’d better kick me too!” laughed the Commander. “I’m ready to join your boob society at any time, Rawlins. I’d hate to have the rest of the navy hear of this. Here I’m supposed to use that registry for looking up ships and I never thought of it when the need came.”
“Well, we’re none of us infallible,” Mr. Henderson reminded him. “However, that’s one point settled. The next thing--”
At this instant a lieutenant dashed into the room and saluted. “Submarine on the starboard bow!” he announced.