Bob whirled about to where the don was sitting on a stool. There was a sharp gleam in the Spaniard’s eyes, although he was otherwise cool and perfectly collected.
“This is a good time to give you fellows a lesson in who’s who aboard the Grampus,” said Bob. “Don Ramon, you did a rascally thing when you hired these men to take you south in direct defiance of my orders.”
“What of it?” The don shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll soon be at the mouth of the Izaral——”
“We are not going to the Izaral River,” cut in Bob. “We are going back to Belize.”
“We are not going back to Belize until we finish our work in the Izaral,” was the insolent response.
“No?” returned Bob coolly. “We’ll see. Gaines?” he called.
“Aye, aye, sir!” answered Gaines, keeping his eyes on the periscope.
“Put about!”
Gaines made no move to shift the wheel.