"Where's our next port of call, matey?" queried Dick, directing the question at Matt.
"You know what Brigham said we were to do when we mentioned any place where we were to put in with the Grampus?" laughed Matt.
"He said," replied Glennie, "that we ought to go down in the deepest part of the ocean and then whisper it."
"Vat dit he mean by sooch grazy talk as dot?" inquired Carl.
"He meant," said Matt, "that the Japs were full of guile, and that the plans we least expected them to overhear would be the very ones they discovered. We came down the east coast of the continent from Brazil and the River Plate, and laid in at Gallego Bay. If we hadn't done that, we shouldn't have discovered that the Japs were following us, their boat newly painted and two wireless masts on her deck. Those lads had their wits about them when they did that wireless work; and it was only an accident that enabled us to catch their messages, and answer them, putting them on a wrong tack."
"But that isn't telling us, mate, where our next port of call is to be."
"I was trying to emphasize Mr. Brigham's advice of keeping such matters to ourselves."
"But it isn't necessary, now that the Sons of the Rising Sun are out of the running."
"Possibly it isn't. Well, we shall have to have more gasoline about the time we reach Valparaiso. You can draw your own inferences from that."
"That means," said Dick, "that we put in at Valparaiso. That will do, fine. I've been there a lot of times, and I'm a Fiji if I wouldn't like to renew some old acquaintance among the Chilians and the English colony. Let's lay over a day or two, Matt, when we get there, and not just paddle ashore, get the gasoline, and put to sea again."