"Not Miss Harris," answered the girl with a flush, "but Miss Ysabel Sixty."
"You bed you," returned Carl, slightly abashed. "Miss Sixdy, dis vas kevite a surbrise. I hat no itee dot you vas in dis part oof der vorld. How id vas——"
"Slow down your motor, Gaines!" shouted Matt, through one of the tubes. "Make ready the bow anchor, there, Clackett—you don't need to bother with the tanks, because we're going to anchor under the surface. Carl," he added, turning to his Dutch chum, "below with you and make ready to let go the stern anchor when I give the word. Sharp on it now!"
Carl jumped for the bulkhead door leading to the after-part of the ship.
Every one on board, with the exception of Dick and Ysabel, were astounded at these maneuvres of Motor Matt's. However, Matt was in charge, and all hands obeyed him without question.
With his eyes on the periscope, Matt stood and watched, now and then calling a direction to Dick, at the wheel.
When the Grampus shot from the Purgatoire into the Izaral, she went broadside on against the current of the larger stream. The steel hull heaved over a little under the mass of flowing water, but the screw and the rudder held her stiffly to her course.
"Now," shouted Matt into the speaking tube, "let go your anchors!"
The swishing clank of chains, paying out under water, came to the ears of those in the periscope room.
"Anchor's down!" cried Clackett.