"For God's sake let us out; we are drowning!" whined another.
"What's the matter with the boat?" asked a third.
"Listen," Ned said. "The Shark may go down in ten minutes, or she may float, under tow, for a long time. Anyway, you are better out of her. I'll take you all out if you promise to behave yourselves. Come out of the hatch one at a time and be searched for weapons. The man that carries a weapon of any kind on his person will be thrown back, to feed the fish. Do you understand?"
They understood, and not even a penknife was found when search was made. Five of the rescued ones were plain seamen, with little knowledge of submarine work. The other was the captain of the Shark. Under the direction of young Moore he had attempted to make off with everything of value on the wreck, including the papers.
This man was a fair type of marine officer, had, in fact, resigned from the United States service with Captain Moore. He was by no means an ill-looking man, but his snaky eyes and treacherous mouth told Ned to look out for him.
He came out of the hatch last and was stepping onto the rowboat when
Ned stopped him with a question:
"Where are the papers?"
"What papers?" snarled the other, Babcock by name.
"The papers you took from the wreck."
"They are below, soaked with water."