“They have the boat, follow them,” he cried, but just as the launch turned, we struck the shore, and before the panting sailors could reach us, were off the beach and sheltered in a deep doorway. We heard their steps running by, as we stood crouched against the wall, but we dared not venture out till we had heard them returning after a futile chase. Once they were by, we started off into the country at a brisk pace.
The morning was well on as we came into Seaview, whence we had planned to come back to Portsmouth. I had finished my story, and Tom had meditated on it for an hour, while we strode sturdily on. As we stopped by a wayside brook to freshen our toilet, he spoke. “No metal?”
“Not a bit,” I answered.
“Dorothy was right,” said Tom. “The man who is trying to stop all war must have some terrific power which utterly destroys metal, causing it to change completely into some other form, and instantly disappear. How horrible to have that man at large. Jim, we’ve got to find him. That little middy you told me of would fire my purpose ten times over, if it were not ablaze already. There’s one thing though,—do you suppose the British government knows what we know?”
“I have very little doubt they do,” I answered, “I fully believe that somebody had been there before us. Everything points that way; the closing of all diving operations by the authorities, the chase of our boat and their persistent effort to capture us.”
“You must be right, Jim,” said Tom soberly. “They wouldn’t want any one to know any more about conditions than they could help. You can’t tell what little thing will start the fire of war just now. I guess we’d better keep this to ourselves for the present.”
“Right you are,” I answered, as we walked into Seaview.
We reached our rooms without the slightest difficulty, and went to bed after a hearty breakfast. We were awakened about twelve by a knock at the door, and the call of a familiar voice. It was our friend Thompson, the manager. He closed the door carefully, as I admitted him. Then he turned and shook hands with me.
“Mr. Orrington,” he said, “you’re a great man, and a lucky one. J. Miggs and his boy came to see me this morning.”