"Food and water," said Mr. Ironsides, with excusable prevarication. "We have run out of them."
"Serves you right for navigating the lakes in that fool contrivance. Well, I know the law. I suppose I'll have to give 'em to you. Make fast and come on board."
Tom, who could see all that was transpiring from the conning tower without danger of being seen, saw Mr. Ironsides spring lightly on board after he had made fast a rope that two of the crew of the tug threw to him.
"Wonder what he is going to do?" thought the boy to himself, as he saw the inventor leaping up the stairway leading to the pilot-house. He entered the structure and could be seen eagerly conversing with Captain Rangler.
As a matter of fact, the inventor had decided on a bold stroke. It was nothing more nor less than to state his mission to Captain Rangler in so many words, and represent himself as having been sent out by the police of Rockport.
"Captain Rangler," he began, "my name is Ironsides. I am connected in an unofficial capacity with the police of Rockport, from which place you are suspected of having kidnapped two boys. I demand that I be allowed to search your craft."
"What sort of talk is this?" blustered the captain. "Me—Captain Rangler—kidnap boys? You're mistaken, my friend. I'm not in any such business."
"In that case, you will allow me, of course, to search your craft?"
"Certainly; go as far as you like. But I'd have you know that it hurts my feelings to be accused of such rascality."
The crafty ruffian actually put on an injured air, as he said this, as if he had been a man of the highest integrity, righteously angered at a false accusation.