“Bob Steele again!” laughed Coleman.
“Always Bob Steele!” chimed in Jordan, with a quizzical look at the youth.
“He iss der feller vat does t’ings, you bet,” declared Carl.
“Let’s hear about what happened while Speake, Tirzal, and I were away from the boat,” suggested Jordan.
“Not now,” answered Bob. “I’m hungry, whether the rest of you are or not. Speake,” he called through the tube leading to the torpedo room, “see if you can get something in the way of breakfast.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” answered Speake heartily.
For some time the Grampus had been heaving and tossing in a way that made it difficult for those in the periscope room to keep their seats. Bob took a look into the periscope.
“Ah!” said he; “we’re out of the river and heading for Belize.”
“And glad I’ll be to get back there,” remarked Jordan, with satisfaction. “You’ve made me a lot of trouble, Coleman.”
“I seem to have made a lot of you a good deal of trouble,” returned Coleman, “and I’m mighty glad I’ve ceased to figure as an international issue.”