Bob frowned at Carl.
“It was either sink the cachalot or run the risk of being stove in,” said Bob. “We’ll have to have a little talk, Mr. Glennie, so you had better go below to the periscope room.”
The ensign nodded, climbed over the top of the tower, and disappeared.
“That there uniform makes him top-heavy, Bob,” growled Clackett. “The quicker you pull some o’ the red tape off o’ him the better it’ll be for all of us.”
“He’s all right, boys,” said Bob, “and I’ll bet he’s a good fellow down at the bottom. He forgets he’s not on the Seminole, that’s all.”
When Bob got down into the periscope room he found Glennie examining one corner of the suit case, which was badly smashed.
“I regret to note, Mr. Steele,” said he, “that there is a serious lack of discipline aboard this boat. Such a thing could never be tolerated in the service. We are to take a long and hazardous journey, and I shall insist on having the men keep their places.”
“You are not here to insist on anything, Mr. Glennie,” replied Bob, coolly placing himself on one of the low stools that were used as seats. “My own duties, and yours, are pretty clear in my mind. Let’s see if I have the situation exactly as you understand it.
“The owner of this boat, Captain Nemo, junior, is recovering from a sick spell in Belize, and he has sold the Grampus to the United States government for one hundred thousand dollars, conditional upon the submarine’s being taken around the Horn and delivered safely to the commandant at Mare Island Navy Yard, San Francisco. For this long cruise I have been placed in charge of the boat. You are aboard as representative of the government, merely to observe her performance. Have I got it right?”
Glennie nodded.