"Exactly."
"I don't need to ask if you are the Ned Nestor mentioned in the letter, then. I saw a picture of you in a San Francisco newspaper, not long ago, and now recognize you as the boy referred to."
"Then take us to the submarine," urged Ned.
"It won't do no good to take us there after that cheap skate has geezled the boat," Jimmie cut in.
"And you are Jimmie," the chief went on. "I saw your picture, too.
Well, this is quite a surprise for me," the chief added.
"You'll get a greater surprise if you let that murderer get off with the Sea Lion," Jimmie remarked.
The chief called the sergeant again and in a moment all was confusion in the police station. A wagon was called, and the chief and his ex-prisoners were soon on their way to the wharf, followed by the eyes of the policemen left behind.
"That's Ned Nestor, of New York," the boys heard one of the men on the iron steps in front saying as they passed, "and the little fellow is Jimmie McGraw. Great hit Preston made arresting them!"
But the minds of the boys were too full of anxiety regarding the fate of Scott and the Sea Lion to pay much attention to the words of flattery they overheard. If the unknown murderer succeeded in securing the arrest of Jack and Frank and getting away in the submarine, the whole trip would have to be abandoned, at least for the present.
Besides, Ned had no idea of going back to New York and reporting that he had been robbed of his boat under the very guns of the Mare Island Navy Yard. He urged the driver to make greater speed, and in a short time the wharf was in sight.