"Pull up your mud hooks and come to the wharf!" shouted Dick. "Matt's with us—and we're defying the whole town. Everybody in the place is tight at our heels."
"Himmelblitzen!" cried Carl. "Der anchors vas coming oop alretty, aber id dakes a leedle time——"
The marine blazed away again. Carl, interrupted in the midst of his remarks, gave a hollow gurgle.
"Vat a safageness!" he exclaimed, "aber pulleds vat don'd hit don'd amoundt to nodding."
"Start the motor!" called Matt. "If the anchors are clear they can be carried this way while the chain is being taken in."
The jingler could be heard answering Carl's pressure on the push button. The propeller began to churn the water, but the boat did not move.
"They're sticking to the bottom!" groaned Dick. "Oh, what a beastly run of luck!"
A yelling pack was rushing toward the wharf from the barracks.
"We can't wait here until that outfit comes within rifle shot," declared Glennie. "We've got to get behind the iron walls of the submarine."
"How can we do it if the anchors hang to the bottom?" returned Dick.