“But he went without his lunch,” retorted Mr. Dunstan. “That was wholly unlike Ted.”
“The ‘Meteor’ may be disabled now,” broke in Tom. “If she isn’t, won’t it be more than well worth while to get the craft out and go scouting through these waters?”
“Yes, yes!” cried Mr. Dunstan. “Come on, boys.”
As they raced down through the grounds they espied the coachman returning.
“Come along, Michael!” shouted Mr. Dunstan. Then, to the boys he explained:
“If the ‘Meteor’ is fit to go out, Michael can go along with you. If there’s any fighting he’s a heavy-fisted, bull-necked fellow who’d face a regiment of thieves.”
Joe had the key of the engine-room hatchway out in his hand before they reached the pier. In a jiffy he had the sliding door unlocked, almost leaping down into the engine room. With swift hands he set the engine in motion.
“All right here,” he reported, while Bouncer, just liberated, frisked about his master’s legs and then whined.
“Keep the bulldog aboard, too, Michael,” called Mr. Dunstan, as he stepped ashore. “Start at once, Captain Halstead. Go as far and wide as you can and hail any craft you think may have news. Michael, I rely upon you to use your fists if there’s need.”
“If there’s the chanst!” grinned the Irishman readily.