“Here’s what we’ll do,” Dave said, shortly.
“We have a fairly powerful wireless on our ship. We’ll get in touch with the United States Naval Station at Port au Prince at once, and report the situation. They will send assistance—even though you’re over here to help your spies! Now—give me your location—in code.”
“O.K.” the foreigner answered, humbly, “Here it is. 2 - 4 - 7, 9 - 3 - 6, 1 - 6 - 3 - 9, 3 - 7 - 9.—That is all. Will you please repeat?”
Dave read the numbers he had written, and the sub commander checked them again.
“Don’t be nervous or frightened about the girl, here,” he said. “We have oxygen enough for thirty-six hours, at least.”
“I hate to think what would happen to you if any harm comes to her,” Dave answered, grimly. “We’re signing off and going up.”
To get the Port au Prince naval station was only a matter of moments, after the steel ball was back on board.
“There’s a submarine and a coastguard cutter at Santiago de Cuba,” was the answer. “We will get in touch with them at once, and you can be sure of fast action!”
After a short wait came the encouraging news: “Submarine and cutter proceeding to the rescue under forced draft!”
Fifteen minutes later the Sea Nymph was in motion. Dave, having obtained the grounded submarine’s location, would sail to the spot and stand by to aid, if possible.