“Go into the periscope room, Dick,” said he, “and get those two revolvers of Jordan’s. Never mind the belts. Empty out some of the cartridges and put them in your pocket. Hustle, old chap.”
Dick was only gone a few minutes. During that time Gaines and Clackett were busy with the rope, hauling the submarine back to the bank, and Bob was listening for more firing.
No more reports came from the timber, however, and when Dick reappeared and handed Bob one of the revolvers, both hurried to the bow of the submarine and sprang ashore.
“Don’t forget your orders, Gaines,” cautioned Bob.
“You can bank on it that I won’t, Bob,” answered the motorist. “You and Dick look out for yourselves. Don’t make a bad matter worse by letting the revolutionists get a grip on you. If they did, we’d be in hard shape for sure.”
CHAPTER IX.
A FRIEND IN NEED.
At the point where Jordan, Speake, and Tirzal had vanished into the wood, Bob and Dick found a faint path—a path so little traveled and so blind that it could not be seen from the deck of the Grampus, even when she was hauled close to the shore.
“It’s as plain as a handspike,” remarked Dick, as he and Bob made their way along the path, “that Jordan and the others took a slant in this direction.”