"Go ahead if you want to; you won't see any more than I've been telling you."
"Well?" inquired Herc, after a somewhat long interval. The yacht had come closer now. She was being driven hard as they could see by the constant cloud of black smoke that came rolling out of her funnel. The crew of the destroyer, who in some mysterious way had some inkling of the mission of the Henry, watched the oncoming yacht with as much interest as their young officers.
"Well, what do you make of her?" demanded Herc, repeating his question.
"Hold on a minute! I'm studying her."
"Studying her! There's not much to study over. It's the wrong craft; anyone could see that with half an eye."
"I'm not so sure of that. She's a funny looking tub. Do you notice anything odd about her, Herc?"
"Not I; except that she isn't the craft we are looking for, confound her."
"Well, there is something queer about her. Notice that after mast. It doesn't appear to fit, somehow, and that stern looks funny, too."
"Jove! now that you speak of it, it does look queer. Say, Ned, you don't think they could have disguised her, do you?"
"I don't know. I've heard of such things. I don't want to make any blunder, and yet that vessel looks to me as if she had been thimble-rigged in some sort of way."