“Oh, dry up, you old fraud,” Garth cried, rolling up a pellet of paper and dexterously flipping it on to the tip of the Yankee’s nose.
“See here, sonny,” the latter remarked in mock severity, rubbing his offended nasal organ the while, “I reckon you’re considerable lackin’ in due and proper respect for yer elders. What was yer mommer thinkin’ about to bring you up in such a style? I’m shocked, young feller, real shocked!”
A roar of laughter greeted this quaint speech.
“Well, if you don’t take the proverbial biscuit, Silas,” the engineer said; then a gigantic ripple passed over the water alongside.
“What was that?” Mervyn cried sharply.
Quick as a flash came the answer, but in a terrible and unexpected manner.
A long, lithe, whip-like tentacle, its under-side armed with hundreds of terrible suckers, writhed up over the rail, swayed for an instant high above the Seal, then fell heavily across the deck.
The startling suddenness of this attack paralysed the explorers for a moment, and, ere they could recover their wits, a second great arm hissed upward, and flung its wet and glistening length around the rail.
“A squid!” gasped the Yankee.
As he spoke, a third tentacle wriggled into view, and the Seal listed slightly beneath the grip of those terrible arms.