The others fairly gasped with amazement.
“But how could any one burn a hole through steel,—under water?” cried Tom.
“Easy!” retorted Rawlins. “A good torch’ll burn as well under water as in air. Used right along by divers. It’s those blasted, dumbfoozled ‘reds’! I can see it all now. They sneaked down here in that little sub of theirs, laid on the bottom, sent a diver out with a torch and burned the hole. Thought they’d drown us like rats in a trap—blame their dirty hides!”
“By jove! it doesn’t seem possible,” declared Mr. Pauling. “I’m surprised, they——”
His words were cut short by a shout from Rawlins. “Look there!” he fairly screamed, leaping up, and pointing towards the bay. “Look at ’em! The low down, sneaking swine!”
All turned instantly towards the bay and at the sight which greeted them jaws gaped, eyes grew round with wonder and hoarse exclamations of anger, amazement and chagrin arose from a dozen throats.
Traveling swiftly seaward through the calm water was a small submarine, her deck just awash, and standing upon her superstructure and waving their hands in derisive farewell were two men. One was heavily built with a huge red beard, the other slender, immaculate in white flannels and with a stiffly upturned, iron-gray mustache.
The next moment they disappeared in the hatch. An instant later only the conning tower showed above the water and ere the amazed onlookers could recover from their astonishment the placid bay stretched unbroken even by a ripple to the distant shores.
Mr. Pauling and Mr. Henderson exchanged rapid glances.
“It was!” muttered Mr. Pauling in a low voice.