Dick's excited manner, and his veiled hints, aroused Matt's curiosity. Following Dick out of the tent, Matt swept his gaze in the direction of his chum's pointing finger.
The next instant Matt gave a startled jump.
"The Grampus!" he muttered, dazedly, rubbing his eyes and staring again.
There could be no mistake. In the cove, and close ashore, could be seen the rounded deck of a submarine. The conning tower was clear of the water, and on its curved side was painted in unmistakable letters the word, "Grampus."
But where had the boat come from? And what was she doing there?
"Get Carl," Matt whispered, "and duck over the ridge out of sight. I'll join you in a minute."
Without waiting for Dick to answer, Matt turned and sped toward the place where he had left the piled fragments of the air ship.
A box of supplies stood near the gasoline motor. Opening the box, Matt removed the two revolvers and the box of cartridges. Slipping the cartridges into his pocket, he leaped to the top of the ridge, dodged over it, and then made his way along the opposite side toward the place where Dick and Carl were waiting for him.
The presence of the Grampus in the cove might mean either good luck, or ill, for the castaways; but if good luck could be helped any by energetic measures, Matt was determined to turn the call of the submarine at the island to the advantage of himself and his friends.
Coming close to the spot where Dick and Carl were kneeling and peering excitedly over the ridge, Matt knelt down beside them and likewise began to watch.