"What's the matter with the frog eater?" cried Dick. "Throw him overboard!"
Matt signed for the captain of the port to have the negro oarsmen get the boat back to the landing. The captain at once gave the order and the boat danced away in the direction of the wharf.
Captain Pons was still calling down anathemas on the heads of all Americans who refused to help a Frenchman in "ze distress."
"By gar," he cried, "I vill vire my government how you haf treat' me! I vill use ze cable, and let ze president of my country know it all. It is mos' contemptible!"
"Captain," said Matt, "we are not allowed to take any strangers aboard the Grampus. Our submarine has appliances which put her so far ahead of every other boat in her class that we are all under seal of secrecy and are bound by a pledge to keep strangers away. So, you see, it would be impossible for you to take a cruise in the Grampus."
Captain Pons glared.
"It is mos' contemptible!" was all he could say.
Matt and Glennie, without delaying further, pushed into the town. Matt had little difficulty in finding the gasoline he wanted. He had to go to two or three places before he found fuel that answered the severe tests he put it to, but finally he got what he desired and had it hauled to the landing.
The captain of the port was not in evidence, but his two negroes were waiting at the boat.
Matt had come down to the wharf in the wagon that brought the gasoline, and Glennie had been left to follow on foot. The ensign put in an appearance just as the barrel had been transferred to the boat. Matt was surprised to see him carrying a rifle.