"Why, she's a German!" cried Mark, "and now she's flying the German naval ensign! Hullo! That's queer! There's something gone wrong with her. She's sprung a leak, surely! She's jettisoning her cargo. Have a squint at her!"
A large, dark object, like a cask or packing case, fell with a light splash into the sea under the steamer's counter. It seemed to have dropped from an inclined plank put out under her taffrail. She was going slowly while this was being done, but presently she put on steam and moved off, gathering speed, and was soon a mere speck in the far south.
The What's Wanted now altered her course to the westward, steered by Mark Redisham, for the two Sea Scouts were allowed to take each a spell at the wheel.
During every moment they were learning something new. What Darby enjoyed as much as anything was to work the winch which hauled in the loaded trawl; but always when the gear was brought inboard there was the excitement of emptying the pocket of the net and seeing what varieties of fish and strange marine creatures had been dredged up.
Darby was at the winch one moment, while Mark was pricking off the trawler's course on the chart, when the mate at the stern shouted excitedly:
"Belay there! Stop the winch, sir! Hold hard. We've fetched up a bit of wreck!"
Mark Redisham ran aft and looked over the side. The trawl beam was against the quarter bulwark, and a curious big, oval object, which at first glance looked like the back of a huge fish, was jammed between the beam and the vessel's side.
Mark leant over, and looked at the thing more closely; then he leapt back, trembling from head to foot.
"Steady all!" he cried hoarsely. "Don't move that winch, Darby! For the life of you, keep it still! Leave it, and come here—quick!"
Darby, the skipper, the mate, the engineer, the whole crew went up to him, staring at the thing which had so filled him with alarm. He alone seemed to know what it was.