"Well, Hick," came one voice, "it looks like a lonely watch for you and me."
"It does that, Joe. Here's the skipper ashore, and all the others gets a chance to stretch their legs but us. We've got to stay and guard that pesky submarine fellow in the forepeak."
"He won't take much guarding, I'm thinking," was the rejoinder; "that padlock's good and tight, and it's too warm down in there fer him to indulge in strenuous exercise."
"Tell you what," struck in the other man, "we're alone, and no one can report to the captain. Let's have a game of cards to while away the time. There's a deck of pasteboards in the skipper's cabin, and we can sit down there, snug and sociable."
"That's a good idea. I'd like to get them two chaps off the submarine to join us. I guess their watch is as lonely as ours."
"I'd like to get 'em, too. But the skipper's taken the only boat. The same one those two kids ran off with."
The voices died away, and the two guardians of the tug evidently had gone below to indulge in their game of cards.
Tom's heart beat high with hope. His plan was succeeding beyond even his expectations. He had confirmation of the fact that Mr. Ironsides was imprisoned in the forepeak, and then, too, the only men on the ship were safe astern engrossed in a game.
One other thing in their conversation had struck Tom sharply. "The boat those two kids ran off with."
That must mean that Jack and Sandy had escaped. No other interpretation could be put on it. But where were the two lads? Tom would have given a lot to know right then.