“I’d give something just to know what they’re saying about us over there,” Jack went on to observe; “because there’s no question but what that’s Badger himself and his officers who are watching all we do here.”
“For one thing,” chuckled Ballyhoo, vindictively, “I reckon they’re trying to figure just where we keep all those bully ingots of gold we cribbed from the old Spanish hulk, where they’d lain under the sea for some hundreds of years. They’d like to be able to use Roentgen Rays, and look right through the sides of our boat so they could count how many bricks we stowed away. But even if they had that knowledge what good would it do ’em, tell me?”
Neither of the others appeared to know; at least they failed to answer Ballyhoo’s question.
Later on the submarine skipper was notified that his vessel could leave the lock and proceed. He had already made arrangements, however, to stay in the canal just beyond until morning, allowing the steam yacht to pass him by, and go ahead.
It was a singular happening when those two boats ranged alongside each other. There was an utter absence of the usual greetings and rough badinage, and this must have struck any idle observer on the canal wall as peculiar, though the true inwardness of the situation might not be apparent to him.
Then the Dauntless passed on, and the squat submarine, looking like an ugly whale, being low down in the water, and with only the conning tower rearing itself above the superstructure, remained at her moorings.
“Well, we’re not sorry to see the last of that steam yacht, if we told the honest truth about it,” remarked Ballyhoo.
The boys being tempted to once more leave the boat and go ashore, for there seemed to be a number of other interesting sights they had missed on the previous occasion, spoke to one of the men about it, asking him to sit there on deck, and make sure that no stranger slipped aboard.
After another hour or so they had seen all that was possible under the conditions, and again made their way back to the boat. More than ever were they struck with the queer and ungainly appearance of the submersible, as they drew alongside, to find the sailor smoking his pipe and apparently keeping a faithful watch above.
“But,” said Ballyhoo, when this fact was mentioned, “she’s a dandy in her own specialty, which is diving, and staying under water. They ought to have named her the Mallard, it strikes me, because she’s built on that order.”