Matt turned to Speake.
"Make a turn to the left, Speake," said he. The submarine swerved slowly to the port tack. "There," said Matt; "hold her so."
Dick gave a low laugh.
"You don't take much stock in that explanation of yours, matey," he remarked, "or you wouldn't be following that bit of supposed flotsam and jetsam."
"I've explained it in the only way I know how, Dick," returned Matt, "but I'm still a good deal in doubt. We'll see if we can overhaul the thing and make a further examination. I don't like to take the time, but it may turn out to be time well spent."
Motor Matt knelt well forward, just where the V-shaped waves parted over the sharp nose of the Grampus, and while he knelt he peered fixedly into the water ahead.
"You're such a cautious chap," spoke up Dick, hanging to one of the flagstaff guys and likewise staring ahead, "that I've been all ahoo wondering why you were doing this night cruising. The night's as black as a pocket, and this coast is about as dangerous as you can find anywhere, and yet here we are, groping our way along, never knowing what minute we may bounce upon a reef or say how do you do to a sharp rock."
"Remember that Pacific Mail boat we spoke yesterday?" inquired Matt, over his shoulder.
"The one that told us they had news, in Santiago, that a Japanese boat had got away from the Chilian, Captain Sandoval, below the Strait of Magellan?" responded Dick.
"Exactly. When we left English Reach, at the western end of the strait, we know Captain Sandoval, of the Chilian warship Salvadore, was pursuing the mysterious Japanese steamer; and we also know that that steamer had on board our enemies, the Sons of the Rising Sun. The mail boat said the news that the steamer had escaped the Salvadore had been flashed by wireless from Punta Arenas, and had been repeated by telegraph to Santiago and Valparaiso."