“That’s the throb of the propeller, sure enough!” added Bob.
“We’re moving!” came from Jerry, and a chorus of delighted cheers greeted this announcement.
There was no question as to the last statement. The Sherman was, indeed, moving slowly through the water. Very slowly, indeed. The motion was hardly perceptible at first, but it was undoubted. Soldier after soldier, hearing the news and feeling the vibration, looked over the side and verified Jerry’s announcement.
Like wild-fire rumors flew about the transport. The chief one, and that most readily believed, because it was the one that every one desired to believe, was this:
“The engines have been repaired. Now we’ll get home!”
And for a time this seemed true. The Sherman gathered headway, and soon began moving more swiftly. But, even at that, her speed was nothing like what it had been at the beginning of the voyage.
“I guess we had the wrong dope, Ned,” remarked Jerry, as the three chums discussed the situation. “It couldn’t have been a bomb explosion after all, or they couldn’t have fixed up the engines.”
“Well, I don’t know that I’ll go so far as to admit that. There may have been a bomb explosion all right, but, even then, they might have been able to make repairs. Anyhow, we’re moving.”
“But we haven’t heard anything about the information we gave,” said Bob; “and the marines are still on guard at that cabin—at least some sentries are there. I passed the door a little while ago.”
“And we haven’t had a sight of our pepper-pot friend since that guard was stationed,” added Ned. “I feel sure he’s in there, and that he tried to blow up the ship.”