“We haven’t thought about the nationality of this craft,” he said. “I do not believe it is an American or English torpedo boat.”
“I guess you are right,” called out Joy, holding up a bundle of periodicals. “These are certainly not English.”
Clif took them from his hand and glanced at the first.
“It’s a French newspaper,” he announced. “And the others are also French.”
“Here’s a book on navigation in the same language,” spoke up Nanny from one corner of the apartment.
“This settle it,” cried Trolley, triumphantly waving a tricolored flag he had found in an open drawer. “This is French torpedo——”
Bang!
The boys started and exchanged glances of consternation. The sharp clang of an iron door closing violently came from aft.
Nanny made a leap for the short flight of stairs leading to the deck and disappeared before Clif could stop him.
“What——” began Joy.