“And they work?”
“Well, we’ve tried them on rabbits and small game, and brought down whatever we aimed at. You see, the shells are loaded with this gas in a semi-solid form. When the gun is fired a fuse is lighted, which releases the gases, and they fill the atmosphere, surrounding anything they strike with a vapor that causes temporary helplessness.”
As Jack spoke there came another hail out of the darkness.
“We are waiting. Resistance is useless. We know you have that casket with you. What is your answer?”
“Will you give us a few moments to consider?” shouted back Jack.
A pause followed.
“I wonder how on earth they know that Ned and the rest secured the casket?” wondered Tom.
This was a poser. It was not till long afterward that they found out that, following the discovery of their escape from the Tarantula, a sailor had noticed the severed string hanging from the porthole of the Professor’s cabin prison. Herrera’s keen mind at once guessed the purpose it had served, and also surmised that the casket must be very valuable. Professor Chadwick, on being questioned, admitted,—thinking of course that the Sea King was by that time out of danger of pursuit,—the manner in which he had tricked the Mexican and the contents of the box.
Suddenly, out of the darkness, ranged the ghostly outlines of El Tarantula. Hardly twenty-five yards separated her from the Sea King. She was moving slowly, far below her usual swift motion. Her dash from the mainland had resulted in overheated engines, which accounted for the space of time those on board the Sea King had been free from her presence.
“We’ll give you five minutes and no more,” came a voice from her midships.