Carl communicated at once with Clackett, in the tank room, and the Grampus was soon riding easier, some ten feet under the surface.
"We're off Cape Virgins," announced Speake, once more at the steering wheel and with his eyes on the periscope.
Matt crawled to the locker and pulled out one of the charts. After a few moments' study of it he gave Speake the course.
"As soon as we get into Possession Bay," said Matt, "we'll be out of this gale. Be careful, Speake."
"It's hard to be careful, Matt, when you ain't able to see the surface more'n a third of the time," was the answer, "but I'll do the best I can. I think you fellows are entitled to a little rest after what you done on deck. Je-ru-sa-lem! but that was a plucky fight you made. I wouldn't have given the fag end o' nothin' for your chances of savin' those fellows—and not much more for your chances o' gettin' back yourselves."
One by one the rescued men began to recover. Carl had been working over the unconscious man, and when he opened his eyes he began to groan.
"He's hurt," announced Carl. "He vouldn't make a noise like dot oof he vasn't hurt."
"I'll see if I can tell what's the matter with him," said Glennie.
Picking his way to the man's side, he and Carl lifted him and laid him on the locker. The man's groans redoubled as he was raised.
"It's his arm," announced Glennie, after a brief examination. "There's a fracture."