“Course it was, mate,” rejoined the other. “I wondered what made my head so sore there.”
“Pigeon’s egg on it, eh?”
“All of that. Feels more like a turkey’s. Say, this craft’s got any of our navy submarines beat.”
At this instant Mr. Dancer’s voice came again.
“We are in the middle of the fleet,” he hailed. “I’m going to play a trick, or, rather, I have played it.”
“What is it?” inquired Mr. Chadwick.
“Why, I’m running submerged with only just the tip of the periscope out of the water. One would have to have sharp eyes to see it yet. Although we are twenty-five feet down, I can see all that is on the surface of the water.”
“Yes, but what’s the trick?” urged Jack.
“Have the panel ready to slide back. Then you all get under it. When the companion way register points to ‘Open!’ you operate the machinery that slides it back.”
“Very well,” said Mr. Chadwick, “what are your next instructions?”