At once all was commotion on the Knobloch’s decks. Men tumbled eagerly about, hauling a line here, letting go another there, until they had set the double reefed mainsail, foresail and a mere rag of jib.
When this had been accomplished all hands seized capstan bars. To the tune of a Dutch sailors’ “chanty” the links of the cable slowly clanked inboard. With a lurch the Lena Knobloch swung as the anchor broke ground. Like a storm driven bird she was off in the wings of a northwester, lying far over even under the greatly reduced sail.
“Where to now, Captain?” asked Ned as von Kluck stepped along the deck with head bent forward. By his manner of nervous intentness Ned guessed that the captain was carrying a load on his mind.
Von Kluck’s only response was a growl as he passed the boys.
“Captain’s grouchy!” declared Jimmie. “Leave him alone, Ned!”
“Sure, don’t bother him!” added Frank. “He’s worried enough!”
“Just the same, I don’t like his looks!” stated Ned with some degree of apprehension. “He seems to have soured after hearing about the ‘U-13.’ Didn’t you fellows notice how he listened to Frank’s story?”
“Sure we did,” Jimmie replied, “but then, it’s only natural that he should be worried over the possibility of losing his vessel!”
“Well, his getting under way in this weather shows that he intends to be square and land us in an English port as he agreed!”
“I guess von Kluck is a pretty good sort of a chap, after all!” ventured Harry. “He has tried to treat us as right as he could!”