On the way back to Grayport they encountered something which was to have played an important part in Ferriss’s plans. This was the drifting boat in which Gradbarr had rowed Lockyer ashore. Drifting about, bottom up as she was, they almost ran her down in the darkness. On turning her over, they found that Anderson had carried out his instructions to the letter, for under one of the thwarts was Mr. Lockyer’s hat.
“Gracious!” exclaimed Herc, with a shudder, “suppose we had not found you and had encountered this boat on our way back? We would have given up Mr. Lockyer for lost for certain, and your fate would have been a mystery to us.”
No time was lost in reporting on board the Lockyer, where anxiety and apprehension were naturally at fever heat. Lieutenant Parry and Midshipman Stark had returned some hours before, but they were pacing the deck, on the lookout for news of some sort, when the launch, with the returned adventurers, arrived.
Warm, indeed, were the congratulations showered upon the lads and the reporter, who had aided them so materially. Mr. Lockyer was placed in a bunk, and Lieutenant Parry, who had some knowledge of medicine, administered some remedies to him. Such good effect did they have that when a doctor came from the shore in the morning there was not much for him to do, except to look profound and recommend rest.
The police were communicated with, and a force of men sent to the island on which Mr. Lockyer had been imprisoned. Evidences of a hasty flight were found there. Evidently, Ferriss and his companions had returned, and finding that in some mysterious way their prisoners had escaped, had not deemed it wise to linger.
The auto had been hired, it was discovered, from a reputable garage in the town. As for the bungalow, that had been rented by Ferriss some days before. He had represented himself as an invalid anxious to try the fresh-air cure, and the real estate agent who rented the place to him had had no suspicion of the real purposes for which he wanted it. Although a “general alarm” was sent out for all who had taken part in the dastardly night’s work, no trace was discovered of them in Grayport or the vicinity.
“I guess they’ve fired their last gun,” commented Ned, when this information was brought off to the submarine that evening. But in this the Dreadnought Boy was mistaken. Such men as Ferriss do not accept defeat kindly. It only enrages their degraded natures and makes them hungry for vengeance on those who they deem have thwarted their ends.