"Good gracious, that means we are leaking badly," cried Tom, "what will happen next on this unlucky cruise! Jeff, wait here. I'm off to see."
Tom found, as Rosewater had said, that there was indeed water in the cabin,—about a foot of it. It seemed to be gaining fast. But, after a rapid survey of the situation, Tom became convinced that the leak was in the bow, and that the water was running aft because of the lower situation of that part of his craft.
This conclusion reached, he hastened on deck. By this time he found that the mysterious submarine, of which they had not yet had a view, was alongside. Her skipper, who had explained that his name was Obadiah Ironsides, was shouting something up to Jeff just as Tom appeared on the scene.
"There's a big, jagged hole in your bow."
Tom peered over and speedily saw that this was so.
"Get canvas and place over the hole," shouted up Obadiah Ironsides, who seemed to know just what to do. "I can fix it in position from down here. My ventilating pipes must have ripped that hole. Yes, I see now they are bent."
His voice held a note of genuine regret, which every one on board the Sea Ranger was by far too busy to notice, however. Under Tom's leadership, some spare sails, for use on the craft's auxiliary masts, were hastily thrown over the side. The suction of the water drew them into the hole, stopping it temporarily. But the Sea Ranger was low in the water, and it was plain that she could not proceed on her voyage without repairs being made. These might prove to be a lengthy operation.
Tom was almost in despair.
"For this accident to happen at this time above all others!" he cried bitterly.
"I don't mind telling you," came Obadiah's voice out of the darkness overside, "that if you had kept on your course you'd have been wrecked anyhow. A big ridge of rocks lies about a mile ahead of you. How did you come to be way off here out of the course of ships going through the Straits?"