Doubting this statement, Jimmie clambered into the small boat and sculled toward the stern of the false “U-13”. There he could look into the water to a depth sufficient to confirm the other’s statement.
“It’s no use, boys,” he declared, returning to the conning tower. “The blades of the propellor are damaged beyond use. We might as well go!”
Securing a line to the bow of the false “U-13” the man proposed to tow it to a safe place where it could be anchored to await repairs. Two trips were necessary to transfer the boys to the craft which had been of such signal service in their hour of extreme need.
Led by their recent guest, who was now their host, the lads descended into the interior of the vessel. Here a strange sight met their gaze. In cages canaries were twittering gaily while all about the bulkheads had been fastened pots of plants, some of which were in bloom.
“Now I understand why the air you so kindly pumped into our vessel had the odor of flowers and growing things!” declared Ned as he turned to their host. “You have things fixed pretty cozy here!”
“Just a touch now and again to make it look home-like!” said the man. “I prefer the sight of a flower to that of a cold steel bulkhead. Besides, it’s more healthful to have a few plants about.”
Harry was lost in admiration of the machinery which he declared to be far superior to that of the vessel they had lately abandoned.
With a touch their strange host sent the craft forward at a good speed. He explained to the lads a gyroscope arrangement by which he controlled the steering gear that kept the vessel on any chosen course and at any desired depth after once being adjusted.
“And now, if you please, Mr. Mackinder,” questioned Jimmie at length, “will you be so good as to tell us what your mission may be?”
“Certainly!” replied the other frankly. “I see the steamer is not following us so I will take plenty of time to give you details.”