Tom Dacre and the others were as effectually prisoners on their own craft as Mr. Ironsides, the inventor, was in the dark and malodorous forepeak of the tug.
CHAPTER XXI.
"THERE IS A WAY—I MEAN TO TRY IT."
The bitter chagrin felt by the eldest Dacre boy and his companions at this sudden and disastrous turn in their affairs may be better pictured than written. Consternation was upon each face. The professor was the first to recover his wits.
"What do you expect to gain by such conduct as this, you rascal?" he cried at Captain Rangler and his men, who were grinning triumphantly through the lens of the conning tower at their unlucky prisoners.
"I'll see that you go to jail for your misdeeds, if ever I get a chance," shouted Jeff indignantly. As for Tom, he felt too heartsick to say a word. In addition to their plight, they could now be pretty certain that the inventor of the submarine was likewise a prisoner, and that, moreover, they were no closer to knowing anything of the fate of Jack and Sandy.
It is doubtful if Captain Rangler heard the remarks addressed to him; but, at any rate, he guessed the purport of them. He grinned mockingly in response, and shouted back:
"You'll never get the upper hand of us, Tom Dacre; try as you will."
His voice carried faintly, and Tom could not help feeling that his words appeared to bear a semblance of truth.
Just then old Sam and Rosewater, who had heard the disturbance, came running up from below.