“That’s so,” agreed Herc; “maybe we’d better leave the horse here and do a little scouting.”
“That’s what I think,” said Ned.
Presently the horse was tied and they were slipping forward almost noiselessly. They soon reached the fence at the spot where Ned thought he had seen some one climb over, and found that several nails had been driven in it at that point, making an ascent comparatively easy.
“Look, what’s that at the top where the spikes are?” asked Herc suddenly, pointing to the tip-top of the fence on the spikes, surmounting which some dark object laid.
“It’s a sack or something placed there so that the spikes will not hurt anybody climbing over,” was the rejoinder. “That proves I was right. Somebody did go over and their object was——”
“The submarine!”
“That’s right, and that watchman isn’t on the job, or he’d have been at them by this time. Herc, it’s up to us to do something. I’ve got half a suspicion who the rascal is, and if we don’t get him, he may do damage that it will take months to repair. You know that Mr. Lockyer’s funds won’t hold out that long.”
“Then over we go,” declared Herc, starting to climb. With sailor-like activity, he was soon on the top of the fence, and found that a sack stuffed full of rags had been carefully laid on the top of the spikes. After him came Ned. In a jiffy they stood inside the yard, uncertain for an instant just what to do.