Ned grasped Jimmie’s arm and pointed straight ahead.
Skipping from wave to wave, throwing up a fountain of spray from each, the shot from the steamer plowed its way across the path of the “U-13,” passing so close that the boys were struck by the flying drops of water.
“That means that we are to stop!” declared Ned. “Next time they’ll shoot at us!”
“And hit us, too!” excitedly put in the other.
Without waiting for orders from Ned, the lad leaned over the coaming of the little hatch.
“Shut her off, Jack!” he cried. “Back on your engines. That guy thinks we are Germans!”
Jack at once complied with the request, and soon the “U-13” was gently rolling in the trough of the sea.
Frank sprang from the wheel to the ladder, mounting to the deck just as a beam of flame from a powerful searchlight aboard the steamer swept the “U-13” from end to end.
In the glare of the light the three boys stood plainly visible. They could not, however, distinguish the details of the other vessel because of the flaming eye regarding them with unwinking stare.
For a few moments they stood close to each other, uncertain what to do. At length a voice hailed them.