"You must remember Durango is as full of resource as a Christmas turkey is full of stuffing," replied Dacres. "He's had the cheek to pose as an Englishman—an Englishman, mind you!—more than once. It's pretty certain, if the tramp sails under a red ensign, that Durango has bluffed her 'old man.' Bluffing, as a fine art, is a valuable asset."
The "Meteor" was now heading N.E. by N., at less than five hundred feet above the sea. She was passing over a number of small sailing craft that reminded the sub of a scene off the Dogger.
"They are principally engaged in carrying turtles from the Galapagos to Panama," remarked Gerald. "Recently there's been a big demand for turtles, and the industry has revived. It's strange that most of the export trade should be carried on in craft like those; yet one rarely hears of any of them coming to grief."
"I hope that Durango hasn't been put on board one of them!" suggested the irresponsible Setchell.
"Don't say that," expostulated Dacres.
"Mr. Setchell has named a possibility," added Captain Whittinghame. "The thought never occurred to me. If, when we overhaul the tramp, we are satisfied that Durango is not on board we can return and make investigations amongst the turtle fleet. It will be a week or more before they fetch Panama."
By this time a stiff south-easterly breeze had sprung up, so that the drift of the airship was considerable. In less than an hour it had developed into half a gale.
"That's the worst of this part of the globe," remarked Dacres. "In the Doldrums it is either a flat calm or blowing hard enough to carry away one's sticks. There are no half measures."
"Sail in sight, sir," announced one of the look-out men. "Dead ahead."
"It's one of those Galapagos boats," declared Captain Whittinghame, after making a careful scrutiny through his binoculars. "Poor brute! she's tried to steal a march on the rest of the fleet and has run into this gale of wind."