“That disposes of X. Y. Z.,” said Jack, glancing at Tom. “It’s plain enough now that some one ashore intercepted our message, just as we caught theirs, and flashed it to Herrera.”
“Guess you’re right,” agreed Tom gloomily, “and we are responsible for giving away the exact location of the Sea King.”
“How’s that?” asked Ned, in a wondering tone.
“I’ll explain all about it later,” said Jack, “the thing is now to formulate some sort of plan to get out of this tangle. Is Captain Andrews or Chief MacDuffy about?”
“MacDuffy is below, trying to fix the break in the shaft,” was the response. “Captain Andrews is asleep in his cabin. He was worn out, and I didn’t wake him when our rocket signals were answered by you.”
“Well, I think we’d better rouse him now,” Jack was beginning, when the cabin door was flung open and a sailor, whose face was chalky beneath his tan, burst in. The group at the table looked up, startled and alert. Ned’s narration had taken almost an hour, and although they had not forgotten the dangerous proximity of the Tarantula, they had had no way of guessing in what way their enemy would next become active.
“That yaller-faced Greaser’s craft is bearing down on us. Mister Bangs!” exclaimed the man. “She looks as if——”
There was a sharp crash overhead, and the booming detonation of a gun resounded an instant later. The boys sprang to their feet and scrambled up the companion way, headed for the deck.
CHAPTER IX—THE CHADWICK GAS GUNS
As they went Jack flashed a swift word to Ned.