A few minutes of pulling on Tirzal’s part brought the point of the submarine’s bow against the bank. Speake had come up on deck with one of the rifles. A moment later Jordan followed him, with Carl trailing along in his wake.
Jordan carried two rifles, one for himself and one for Tirzal, and also Tirzal’s bundle of clothes.
“We’re taking all the rifles, Bob,” said Jordan, “but I have left my cartridge belt and six-shooters in the periscope room. If you should be attacked—which I hardly expect—your best defense will be to sink to the bottom of the river. We’ll be back in three hours. If we’re not, you’ll know something has gone wrong with us. But don’t fret about that. Tirzal knows the country, and he’ll steer us clear of trouble.”
Speake and Jordan made their way to the point of the bow and sprang ashore. As soon as Tirzal had slipped into his clothes and grasped the rifle, the three comprising the landing party waved their hands to those on the deck of the boat and vanished into the forest.
“Dose fellers vas going to haf all der fun,” grumbled Carl.
“I don’t think anybody is going to have a monopoly of ‘fun,’ as you call it, Carl,” said Bob grimly. “You and Dick stay on deck and keep a sharp watch for rebels. I’m going to the periscope room to take a nap. In order to be on the safe side, Dick, you’d better let the Grampus slide back toward the middle of the stream. Leave the cable on the tree and pay it off from the bow of the boat.”
“All right, Bob.”
“Call me if anything happens,” said Bob, climbing into the conning tower.
On reaching the periscope room, he signaled Gaines to stop the motor, and told him and Clackett that the submarine was moored, and that they could either sleep or go on deck, as they preferred. Then, thoroughly tired out by his long night vigil, he stretched himself on the locker and was soon sound asleep.
How long he slept he did not know, but he was suddenly aroused by a pounding of feet on the steel deck, startled cries, and a tremendous splashing of water.