"Ready for the trial trip?" he enquired of Quinton.
"Sure," was the reply as he spat over the side.
"Jim there?"
Quinton jerked his thumb in the direction of the Toronto, for which the motor-boat was making. As they reached her the two men nimbly climbed up the side and, Quinton leading, dived below to the office of works. As they entered Blake was sitting exactly as Quinton had left him an hour and a half previously. At the sight of Grant his eyes seemed to flash; but he made no movement except to hold out his hand, which Grant gripped.
"Through with everything?" he enquired, as he seated himself, and Quinton threw himself on a locker.
"Sure," replied Blake.
"I——" began Grant, then breaking off cast a swift look over his shoulder.
Blake nodded his head comprehendingly, whilst Quinton spat in the direction of the door as if to defy eavesdroppers.
From his pocket Grant drew a map, which he proceeded to unfold upon the table. Quinton walked across and the three bent over, studying it with absorbed interest. Meanwhile Commander Ryles had been shown to his cabin.