"You're to keep your face closed—see?" he said, nudging Ned in the side with an elbow. "You're to keep your clapper tied," he went on, "or I'll tie it up for you. And how in the name of the Seven Seas did you ever get in such a scrape, Ned Nestor?"
The last words were spoken very softly, but before that Ned had recognized the man as one he had known and liked on the water front in New York.
"You're in a bad box," Ben went on, "for that slob means business."
"There's just one chance for us," Ned whispered. "If the rockets are all right, and the gunboat is not too far away to see the signals!"
CHAPTER XVII.
THE FLARE OF A ROCKET.
Ben looked at Ned in astonishment.
"You never got the Manhattan away, did you?" he asked.
"The boys got it away," replied Ned.