“It’s a schooner all right,” declared Rawlins, after studying it through his glasses, “and it fits the description of the one that Disbrow lost to a ‘T.’ Shall we run over and have a look at her?”
“I suppose it would be wise,” agreed Mr. Pauling, “but how about being seen? I think we had better submerge and watch her through the periscope. If it’s another schooner we can get away without being seen—I doubt if these West Indians would notice a periscope—and if it is the schooner we want, we can either run alongside and board her or else keep watch at a safe distance and perhaps secure valuable information as to her objective.”
A few moments later only the submarine’s periscope was visible above the sea, and below, Rawlins, Mr. Pauling and the navigating officer kept their eyes glued to the eye-pieces. Now the schooner was plainly visible, even from the low elevation of the periscope, and as they drew ever nearer Rawlins noticed something peculiar about her. Although she had all lower sails spread they were drawing but little in the light wind and yet she was moving at a fairly good speed.
“I’ll be hanged!” Rawlins suddenly exclaimed. “She’s being towed!”
“Being towed?” repeated Mr. Pauling. “There’s nothing towing her.”
“Nothing!” almost shouted the diver. “Nothing! By all that’s holy she’s being towed by a submarine!”
“Yes, Sir; that’s what she is, Sir,” responded the navigator in matter-of-fact tones. “Shall we put a shot across her bows, Sir?”
Mr. Pauling burst out laughing despite the excitement and surprise of their discovery. “This is not wartime,” he replied. “We’d get into no end of trouble by such methods. That schooner is flying the British flag and for all we know to the contrary is an honest vessel in distress being towed by one of our own submarines.”
“What the deuce is up now!” interrupted Rawlins. “Look there! She’s stopped! Say, yes, darned if she isn’t. Jumping jiminy, the sub’s cut loose!”
“She’s no longer moving,” admitted Mr. Henderson. “Perhaps they’re waiting for us.”