A bell suddenly sounded, with queer double strokes.
“Eight bells!” exclaimed Captain Wiggs, as he arose from a deck chair where he had been sitting, to the boys. “Time for mess,” and he led the way toward the dining saloon.
As he was about to descend the companionway he looked over the rail. Astern of the Modoc was a small steam yacht, coming on at a swift speed.
“That’s queer,” murmured the captain.
“What is?” asked Fenn, for the boys were privileged characters.
“That yacht,” replied the commander. “She’s been following us all the morning; ever since we left Lakeville. I wonder what the game is? Steward, bring me the glass,” he called, and, when the binoculars were handed to him, the captain took a long look at the pursuing craft.