"Never mind about the money, Bill," said Dampier, whose sallow face was beaming with ferocious delight; "the money they have is yours, Bill—all yours. Oh, what a stroke of luck, eh, Walstein?"
"I should say so," assented the leonine-headed ruffian. "Have you got them locked in, Bill?"
"We-el, you know Bill Barkentin," grinned the other, with a wink and placing one finger to the side of his flat nose, "I'll guarantee that they are safe for as long as we want to keep 'em penned up."
"Which will be till we hear from old Chisholm Dacre regarding how much he is willing to give up for his precious nephew and his chum," said Dampier.
Soon after this, the rascals, in whose power the unconscious boys were once more, entered the old light-house.
They made a hearty meal, with many jests and much laughter, in which the mysterious prisoner, who has been mentioned by them once or twice before, figured largely. To judge by their conversation, he was a man toward whom they cherished the utmost hatred and malice.
CHAPTER XX.
THE ENEMY'S VICTORY.
Evidently the peculiar color which the submarine craft Huron had been painted answered its purpose of practical invisibility excellently. For the tug came right on, driving straight for the diving boat, without any of those on board apparently being aware of the proximity of the queer vessel.
Tom's excitement and suspense were painful as the tug drew closer. Were his brother and his chum on board? How big a crew did the tug carry? What would be the outcome of the plan, which had been determined upon after a consultation, and which was nothing more nor less than to hold up the tug and search her thoroughly.