Glennie, braced in the top of the conning tower, was running the boat from that position.
The first boat that had put off from the steamer, and consequently the nearest one to the submarine, contained an officer and two sailors.
They were rigged out in genuine Chilian style, and Matt had to admit to himself that the imitation was admirable—so admirable, in fact, that he would have been deceived had he not had prior knowledge of the identity of the steamer.
The submarine's motor was doing her best, but the craft had to follow the contour of the coast, and this threw her nearer and nearer the first of the approaching rowboats.
"We're in for it, Matt," said Glennie grimly.
"We'll try and keep ourselves out of harm until our diving gear is put in shape, Glennie," Matt answered. "After that we'll drop away and leave our Jap friends up above."
"Vell, vat oof der tiving gear don'd vas got retty in time, Matt?" asked Carl.
"Don't cross that bridge until you get to it, Carl. If the Stars and Stripes can't protect us on a peaceable cruise, then the Sons of the Rising Sun are taking long chances and running big risks."
A hail came from across the water. The officer in the nearest boat was standing and trumpeting through his hands.