"The money isn't likely to be in any of those places," declared Mr. Jephson, shaking his head. "Hullo, what's that racket?"
Off in the fog a horn was sounding frantically.
Tom Halstead laughed.
"You ought to know that tune, Mr. Jephson. You've heard it days enough. That's the 'Panther' coming up with us, with Ab Perkins in command. He understood our signal, as I thought he would. He'll be hailing us within two minutes."
"But that won't be finding the money," broke in Joseph Baldwin, impatiently.
"Nor do I believe we're going to find it—not immediately, anyway," answered Mr. Jephson. "This boat doesn't seem to be full of hiding places, and I believe we have done all the searching we can do out here at sea. We shall have to run the 'Victor' in at anchorage at San Francisco, then put aboard a force of officers under experienced detectives, and leave the search to them."
"Confound it," growled Jason Ross, "I know, as well as I know I'm standing here, that there are three million dollars in actual cash somewhere within a hundred feet of us. It makes me almost frantic to think that we can't put our hands right on it."
"Ahoy, there!" roared a voice off in the fog.
Though the other craft was invisible, and though the voice came through a megaphone, the hearers knew it was Ab Perkins's voice. Jed snatched up a megaphone to shout back: