Matt made no answer, but continued to watch the dancing yawl as Gaines brought the submarine steadily nearer.
"Stand by to catch a rope!" shouted Matt presently, when they were close enough for a cast. "Let 'er go, Clackett!"
The rope left Clackett's hand, untwined itself sinuously in the air, and the end of it was grabbed by the big fellow in the sou'wester.
"All fast!" he boomed in a voice that was strangely strong for one whose actions showed him to be nearly fagged out.
Speake's rope was then thrown, and thus, with a double cable, the yawl was drawn close against the rounded side of the submarine.
In the periscope room were only the don and Gaines. Gaines' head was shrouded by the folds of the black periscope hood, and the don, unseen, was rubbing his hands delightedly.
[CHAPTER VII.]
THE SNARE TIGHTENS.