“Oh!”
“You know, they only hear those messages in the afternoon watch. That is the only time, in all probability, that your sister can get to the radio. The rest of the time, perhaps, the regular radio man is on duty, and he is probably in league with the mutineers.”
“My goodness, Phil!” ejaculated Belding, “that word ‘mutineers’ makes me tremble.”
“It suggests the rough stuff, all right,” agreed the Seacove lad. “I hope my sisters and your folks will not be treated too outrageously by the gang that has got possession of your father’s ship.”
“If we could only find them! We’re tied here on this old iron pot—”
“Hold on! Don’t malign the Colodia. We may be glad for their sakes that we are on this destroyer.”
“I don’t see it. I wish I was on the Redbird.”
“A fat chance! With those Germans committing acts of barratry like painting out the Redbird’s name! That shows they are desperate men. And what could we do to them if we were in their power?”
“What help can we give the folks from this distance?” groaned Belding.
“This is a matter that will have to be brought to the attention of the Old Man, George. I am going to speak to Mr. MacMasters and ask him to get us a chance to interview Commander Lang.”