The fingers were like iron. They closed tightly on the Englishman's throat, preventing him from crying out.
Two minutes and the officer was dead. Bob knew that by his weight. Letting the man down gently, he pulled a tarpaulin over him, and resumed his search as calmly as though nothing had disturbed him.
He was lowering himself into the water when he accidentally saw the English flag still flying at the stern.
"That ain't the right flag," he muttered, as he looked at the Union Jack. "Blow me crazy, but if I'd got the Stars and Stripes I'd put it there. Anyhow, that thing shan't stay."
Bob could move about with the silence of a mouse. He was barefooted, and so no footfall was heard.
Quietly he drew the halliards and lowered the flag.
The darkness aided him, or he would have failed.
He unfastened the flag and wound it around his body.
A piece of the halliard was cut off to tie the flag securely.
Bob was not yet satisfied.