"None of the gasolene you bought in Port-of-Spain has been used as yet?"
"Not a drop."
"Well, connect up the carburetor with the storage reservoir. If there is a little water in the carburetor, it will soon work out. After that, empty this tank, strain the gasolene through chamoiskin, and then give the tank a compressed-air treatment. I'll send Clackett to help you."
"But how, in the name of sin, did water get in that tank?" cried the perplexed Dick.
As Matt turned to crawl away, he picked up a six-inch ebony cylinder, about the size of a lead-pencil, from near the tank. It was a chopstick!
"Has the Chinaman been here?" he asked.
"Not that I know of," answered Dick. "Why?"
"Nothing," said Matt, but he was doing some tall thinking as he stepped into the torpedo room, aroused Clackett, and sent him aft to lend Dick a hand.