The rattle and roar of the steering machinery as the wheel was spun right and left drowned the sound of their voices. Kenworth was looking straight ahead. From time to time they could see him turn slightly and give some order to the helmsman; but what the orders were they could not catch.
The Seneca appeared to be following the channel perfectly, however, winding among the mazes of deeper waterways like a dancer.
"Kenworth is no slouch at this work," said Ned in a low voice as they watched.
"Shucks!" grunted Herc, "I guess the Seneca has been in and out of here a hundred times. Anyhow, a blind man could see those channels."
Ned turned on his companion with a stern look.
"See here, Herc Taylor, we want peace and harmony on this craft; do you understand?"
"Even if we have to scrap to get it," muttered Herc. "All right; from now on, I'm the greatest little peace delegate ever you saw."
A minute later, while they were still watching, they saw something that gave them a momentary shock of surprise. Rankin appeared on the bridge. There was nothing extraordinary in his so doing, of course. He probably had something to report to the watch officer.
But somehow Ned, with a quick flash of intuition that he could not explain, felt that more than that lay in this sudden conjunction of their two enemies; for that Rankin disliked them, Ned had no doubt.