“They are shut up in the torpedo room. Fingal intends to keep them shut up all the time they are not needed for running the boat.”
“By George!” exclaimed Bob.
“What now?” whispered Dick.
“Why, if necessary, one of those fellows could shoot the other out through the torpedo tube! I got out that way once, you remember, in Atlantic City, and the Grampus was submerged, at that. Here she’s on the surface, and the mouth of the tube isn’t more than two feet under water!”
“What good would it do for one o’ them fellers to be shot out of the boat?” queried Speake. “He’d only find himself in the hands of those outside.”
“Well, Speake, if we got a chance to leave here and run the revolutionists off the boat, one of the men from the torpedo room would prove a big help to us. With Don Carlos gone, there are only Fingal, Pedro, and two more against us—and perhaps Ysabel could keep Pedro from taking a very active part in the fighting.”
“But there are the guns—consarn ’em!” growled Dick. “What could we do against four, or even three, armed men? They could riddle us before we got close enough to use our fists.”
“If I could take the cartridges out of the revolvers,” said Ysabel, “wouldn’t that help?”
“How could you do that?” queried Bob eagerly. “Aren’t the weapons in the men’s pockets?”
“There were only four revolvers,” went on the girl, “and one of the men gave his to Don Carlos. That leaves only three on the boat. Pedro has one, Fingal has one, and one of the other men has one. If I——”