Strong in his conviction that it was the submarine that the midnight marauders were bent on attacking, Ned led the way across the yard, taking advantage of every shadow and the cover afforded by the outbuildings. As they neared the big shed in which the completed craft lay resting ready on her supports for the launching, they heard a sudden sharp, spluttering sound. Ned gripped Herc’s arm and held him back. Fortunately, they were behind the corner of the office building and could see without being seen, unless they exposed themselves too much.
Following the sputtering sound, a match blazed up and illumined the faces of two figures bent over a lantern. They were going to light it before they entered the building.
“Two of them!” gasped Herc.
“Yes, and do you recognize them?” breathed back Ned.
“Thunder and turtles! One of them is that fellow Anderson.”
“Yes, and the other is Gradbarr. I didn’t know he was in the village. He must have been hiding some place all this time.”
“And Anderson must still have that key,” whispered Herc, in a tremulous voice.
“That’s so. Oh, don’t I wish we could get the police. But I daren’t leave here till we see what they are up to.”
The next instant the lantern blazed up, and cautiously turning the flame low, the two slipped into the dark shadows of the construction shed.
“What are we going to do now?” asked Herc.