"He's certainly fallen afoul of some mighty tough luck," went on Dick. "He must have been working for several years on the Grampus, and he no more than gets her finished when along comes Jurgens with his gang and cuts her out. But, as I said, Townsend could have saved himself all this trouble if he had jugged Jurgens the time the fellow was found going through his desk."
"All that isn't worrying me so much," said Matt, "as the trouble we had with the Hawk. I'm through making ocean voyages in air ships. They're all right on the land, but when you take them out over a big stretch of water you're running too heavy a risk. And we got to this island by the skin of our teeth, Dick. If it had been a little farther off we'd never have made it."
"I wouldn't have given the fag end o' nothing, one while, for our chances of getting out of that fix alive. But fate is always springing surprises on a fellow. I'm beginning to think with Carl, Matt, that you can't dodge your luck, no matter what you do. But, tell me, what did you think of Townsend's boat? You were aboard her for a while and must have found out something about the craft."
"I know the Grampus has a strong steel room under her deck," said Matt, "and that she has an arrangement for firing torpedoes. Apart from that I know very little about the boat. I'd like to have a chance to take my time and examine her, but that opportunity, I suppose, will never come my way."
Carl had ceased to take a part in the conversation, and his snores were echoing through the tent. Matt and Dick presently fell asleep also, and when Matt awoke he found some one shaking him.
He opened his eyes and sat up.
"That you, Dick?" he asked, astonished to find that it was daylight.
"Aye, aye, messmate," replied Ferral, "it's Dick, all right enough. Come out of the tent—I've a surprise for you."
"What is it?" asked Matt, getting to his feet; "good luck or bad?"
"That's hard to tell, offhand. Come out and see for yourself. All I can say is, you're going to find something you didn't expect."