“It’s likely he didn’t know anything about these Sons of the Rising Sun,” replied Bob. “We’ve only been able to get a line on them by facing considerable danger, and taking a lot of hard knocks.”
“Ven dose leedle fellers whipped Rooshia,” put in Carl, “dey got puffed oop like I can’t tell. Dere is some chips on deir shoulters all der time now, und they ought to be knocked off.”
“Don’t make a common mistake, Mr. Pretzel,” cautioned Glennie. “The Japanese government has always been a good friend of the United States, and you know there are hotheads in Japan just as there are in our own country. But both governments are on friendly terms and will always be so. The mikado’s government doesn’t know what these Sons of the Rising Sun are doing, so what happens is just a little private war between them and us, with the Grampus as the bone of contention.”
“Vell,” and Carl wagged his head decidedly, “ve got our teet’ on der pone und dey can’t shake us loose.”
“That’s right,” laughed Bob.
“Mr. Pretzel is a jingo,” said Glennie. “But what am I to do about those dispatches?”
“We’ll go right on to the Amazon and Para. When we get there, Mr. Glennie, I’d advise you to make a clean breast of everything to Mr. Brigham. Perhaps he can help you get hold of the papers in some way.”
The ensign shook his head gloomily. “I see what will happen to me,” he muttered, “but I guess I can face the music, all right. I’m sorry for the governor, though, when the news gets to Boston.”
At this moment Speake came in and began clearing up the scattered tin dishes that had been used in serving the morning meal. He reported Gaines and Clackett as feeling all right, and actively engaged in their duties.
Bob ordered the ballast tanks emptied so as to bring the submarine within a dozen feet of the surface. At this depth the periscope ball cleared the waves, the automatic valves opened, and those in the periscope room were able to take a look at the surface of the sea. The steamer was nowhere in sight—there was not even a smudge of smoke on the horizon.