“Wow! Help! Let me out! I’m suffocating!” yelled Herc, beginning to regard his imprisonment seriously.
On deck the ensign had the boat crew lined up.
“Get aboard, men, and hurry back to the ship,” he ordered; “we’ve spent enough time here.”
He thanked the old Yankee skipper for his hospitality, and the commander of the old convict craft was profuse in his gratitude for the assistance Uncle Sam’s navy had extended him.
In the meantime, Herc’s absence had been noted. Ned stepped up to the ensign and, saluting, reported:—
“Taylor is missing, sir.”
“Missing?”
“Yes, sir. He’s not here.”
“Very extraordinary. What can have become of him?”
“I can’t imagine, sir. We were below together when we heard the whistle, and I only discovered his absence a minute ago.”