Still standing under the unwinking eye of the searchlight, the little group waited expectantly for the arrival of the boarding party.
A splash of oars preceded the boat which soon shot out of the darkness.
In another moment an officer in uniform had mounted the little deck. Wonderingly he glanced about the group, now augmented by the arrival of Jack and Harry.
“Where is your commander?” he inquired somewhat stiffly, addressing no one in particular.
Indicating Ned, the boys silently waited.
“Are you in charge of this vessel?” asked the officer, with just a trace of amusement.
“I am and I am not,” replied Ned, with dignity.
“That’s very enlightening, I’m sure,” returned the other. “But time is short, and I must see the person who is in charge, and that at once.”
“The owner is lying in the cabin with a broken leg which he received as we were escaping from a German submarine,” explained Ned. “We boys are trying to get to some port where we can secure the services of a surgeon.”
“Oh,” exclaimed the officer, “escaping from a German?”