"Jupiter!" exclaimed Glennie, "I hadn't thought of that. But you'd better come back here, Matt, while we explain the situation to Captain Pons. It's better to have him and the captain of the port for friends rather than enemies."
"Every minute's delay makes the position of the Grampus just that much more dangerous. Carl, Dick, and the rest don't know a thing about this other submarine, and if the Japs made an attack on our boat, while she's lying at anchor——"
"Don't fret about that, Matt," cut in Glennie. "The Japs will have their hands full saving their torpedo. They're thinking more about that Whitehead just at present than of anything else. But, anyhow, we can't try to dodge the bullets these negroes will send after us if we make a run of it."
Matt, fretting over the delay, slowly returned to the steps. The negro was reloading his pistol, the other was making ready to use his weapon in case Matt refused to obey orders, and both the captain of the port and Captain Pons were looking extremely fierce and determined.
Both captains were talking to Glennie. The ensign answered them sharply, and the captains gave responses equally sharp.
"What a pair of dunderheads!" growled Glennie to Matt.
"How's that?" queried Matt.
"Captain Pons has developed a very bright idea," was the ensign's sarcastic response. "He says we caused the torpedo to act in that unaccountable manner, and that we did it in order to steal it from him."
Matt caught his breath.
"Is Captain Pons in his sober senses?" he demanded.