"That's just what I want to know," answered Speake, his consternation growing and a tremulous awe finding its way into his voice. "He was on the deck a few minutes ago, but he isn't here now. The last I saw of him he went aft, around the conning tower. The next thing I knew, when I turned and looked for him, he wasn't aboard."
All three of the lads were stricken dumb. For a brief space none of them spoke, but looked toward each other in the gloom, frantically alarmed and vaguely fearing—they knew not what.
"He couldn't have fallen overboard," spoke up Glennie, first to break the silence that held them as by an uncanny spell, "and yet it's certain he's not on the boat."
"Matt!" roared Dick, making a trumpet of his hands and calling into the blank darkness. "Ahoy, Matt!"
No answer was returned. All that could be heard was the hum of the submarine's motor, the swish of the propeller, and the lap and gurgle of waves along the rounded side.
Carl began to whimper.
"Ach, du lieber! Oof anyt'ing has habbened py dot bard oof mine, I don'd know vat I shall do, py shinks! He vas der pest friendt vat I efer hat, und——"
"Put about, Speake!" cried Dick, now thoroughly alive to the situation. "If Matt went overboard, then we're rushing away from him, and he's swimming somewhere in our wake."
The shaken helmsman immediately turned the Grampus in a wide circle and rang for full speed.