Instantly savage growls resounded, and after that the Eagles joined hands, formed a circle about Donald, and danced a sort of war dance of joy, concluding with the screaming cry of their Patrol.
Mr. Grant and Ensign Hargreaves smilingly watched this scene.
When something like order had been restored, the latter announced the closeness of the Seneca.
This, too, was greeted with a cheer, which was cut short by the reappearance of Collins.
"I've been talking with the Seneca, sir, and he says that they are proceeding here at full speed."
"Good. That will do, unless you have any communications to make," said Mr. Grant, turning to the ensign.
"No, sir, none whatever," was the reply.
It was ten minutes later when Rob's sharp eye descried a trail of smoke on the horizon. A short time after, by the aid of glasses, the craft was made out to be the Seneca, bound at full speed for the yacht. On the latter's signal-halliards up went a gaudy string of signal flags announcing her identity. The signal was answered from the Derelict Destroyer, which also fired a gun in honor of the recovery of the castaways.
By midafternoon good-byes, warm and hearty, had been said, three ringing cheers exchanged between the crews of both craft, and the Brigand was headed due south, while the Seneca made in toward the coast. Long before sunset both craft had vanished from each other's sight.
"So that was one derelict that Uncle Sam did not have to destroy," laughed Ensign Hargreaves to Lieutenant Murray as they stood side by side on the bridge.