“It isn’t possible that she has proceeded?” mused Tom.
“Not likely. As I understood that message the location was given us so that we could make direct for her. If she had been capable of proceeding under her own steam, surely she would have made for Lone Island.”
“If only we knew something of the object of Uncle Chester’s mission, we might form a clearer idea of what has happened out here,” ventured Tom. “One thing is certain, the Sea King hasn’t struck a rock——”
Jack laughed mirthlessly.
“There isn’t a reef or a shoal within a hundred miles of her bearings, as given to us,” he said; “that’s what makes the whole thing such a baffling puzzle. Her boilers and machinery were new. I don’t see what can have happened to them, and surely if the accident had been of that nature, the despatch would have said so. It’s just the vagueness of the whole thing that worries me.”
“Complicated by Mister X. Y. Z., whoever he may be,” supplemented Tom. “Do you know, Jack, I’ve got a hunch that we, are destined to see that individual before very long?”
A sudden yell from Jupe, who was at the bow keeping a keen lookout according to instructions, cut the night.
“Marse Jack! Marse Tom! Look! Look dere, yondah!”
There was no need for Jupe to explain himself. Dead ahead, and directly on the Vagrant’s course, a bright streamer of flame slashed the sky like a scimitar of fire.
“A rocket!” exploded Jack.