[CHAPTER XVII]
A GLAD SURPRISE
For a moment Jerry hesitated, but for a moment only. He realized that this was the only means of salvation for himself and his friends, and, though there was a suspicion that the commander of the submarine was perhaps a vindictive crank, there was no choice. So Jerry started down the iron stairs that led into the interior of the vessel.
“One moment, please,” said the commander, “you’ll not need your life preserver here. It takes up too much room, and we have not much to spare. We have to utilize every inch in a submarine. Besides, I have preservers of my own. Kindly discard it, if you please.”
Jerry did so, calling to his companions to do the same. Then, taking a last look at the Comet, he went down the hatchway.
The others followed, Professor Snodgrass being the last to go down. And as he entered the hole that led into the boat Ned, who was just ahead of him, heard him say:
“Oh, that lovely black beetle. I have lost him. Oh, what a calamity.”
“Better lose him than your life,” commented Ned. “And we couldn’t have stayed aboard the Comet another minute. It’s too bad we had to desert her. Dear old Comet! There’ll never be another like her.”
“Yes, she served us well,” spoke the scientist. “But perhaps all is for the best. At least I am in a submarine, and now I may get those crabs. Yes, I’m sure everything is for the best,” and he seemed quite resigned to the change.
The four had descended into a plainly furnished room at the foot of the companionway leading to the opening in the deck. As soon as the Professor was standing beside the three boys the German stepped to where several levers and wheels were set into the wall, and moved a small handle. Immediately a grinding sound was heard overhead, the sliding of steel on steel, and the refugees realized that the hatch-cover was closed—hermetically sealed, of necessity. They were bottled up in the submarine, and with a strange man of whom they knew little.