“You’ll find out how much of a bluff we are,” snapped the officer. “Strong, pass the word below to load the torpedo tube.”
Ned, carrying out what he guessed was a cleverly thought-up plan to rout the mutineers, sprang to the side of the conning-tower.
“Below there!” he hailed. Then he paused, as if listening for a reply. “Stand by to load the torpedo tube. Hold your fire till you get the word.”
“Aye, aye,” roared up Midshipman Stark, from his station at the wheel.
“Now then, sir,” cried Parry, hailing the old man, “you and the lady buckle on life preservers and jump overboard. We’ll pick you up.”
“W-w-w-what are you going to do, sir?” quavered the apostle of peace.
“Blow that vessel and those mutineers sky high!” exclaimed the young officer.
“Hurray!” cheered Ned, Herc and Tom, in ferocious voices.
The mutineers began to waver. The submarine folks could see the bloated-faced man trying to rally them, but he failed. A dozen of them rushed to the rail. Their faces shone ghastly white in the searchlight.
“For heaven’s sake, don’t fire, sir!” they begged.