The savage was yellow in spots—half yellow and half mahogany color.
“Here, Bob!” cried the voice of Glennie as he knelt on the deck while the submarine slowed in answer to Dick’s signal. “Drop that fellow and catch this rope!”
“I can’t drop him!” gurgled Bob.
Glennie reached over with the spear and tapped the savage on the head. Instantly the fellow, with a fierce snarl, let go of Bob and vanished under the hull of the Grampus.
Bob, thus left with his hands free, caught the rope and was dragged aboard. Glennie snaked him to the top of the deck, and, for a space, the young motorist lay there.
“Did you capture the other fellow?” asked Bob, as soon as he had rested a minute.
“He’s tied to the other end of the rope that I used for pulling you in,” replied Glennie.
“Good enough! Did you notice how that rascal I was fighting with changed color in the water?”
“You bet!” cried Dick. “I saw that! Was it war paint he had on?”