It was somewhat stuffy down there, but that couldn't be helped.
From the center of the ceiling a single incandescent lamp supplied the illumination of the room.
As Tom Halstead peered in through the grating he saw Cragthorpe seated on a stool in the far corner.
Tom did not speak. The fellow glared at him, then looked away.
"The door is locked tightly, all right," murmured Captain Halstead to himself, after rattling the bars and examining the lock.
No sooner had he turned away, and stepped out of sight, than Cragthorpe rose like a caged tiger. A leer expressive of the utmost cruelty parted his teeth. He shook his fist menacingly after the departing young skipper. He was able to do that much, for Mr. Costigan, following the usual course in such cases, had removed the handcuffs after depositing the prisoner in the brig.
"Perhaps you think I'm here, simply awaiting your pleasure, my young salt water cub!" snarled Cragthorpe to himself.
Tom Halstead, however, gave the fellow little further thought. He was too happy over the lifting of the fog. It is possible for two craft of the size of these to run all day within two hundred yards of each other through a fog, judging each other's positions only by sounds. The slow speed of fog-time makes this possible. Yet it requires splendidly expert seamanship on both craft. The ordeal is bound to be wearing on the deck and watch officers. Tom and his three mates felt utterly tired after their experience, but the passing out of the belt of the fog had brought huge relief to them.
Up to ten o'clock that evening the "Victor" maintained her fast speed. The air was now thoroughly clear in every direction. Tom could have kept the other craft in sight even had the steam yacht shown no lights. But the commander of the "Victor" had all his running lights going.
"You'll call us, if anything whatever happens that's worth our knowing, won't you, Captain?" asked Joseph Baldwin, joining the young sailing master, who stood close to the bridge steps on the port side.