“Your men will put us ashore; you may ask them to stand by now.” And to Professor Sykes, “Better get that ‘soup’ of yours ready to load.”
The red-clad figures were growing dim on the screen, and the blotches of colors that showed where they were grouped were few. Some there were who left such groups to flee precipitately toward a waiting airship.
This was something the lieutenant had not foreseen. He had expected that the force that served the gun would have some shock-proof shelter; he had not anticipated a fighting ship to take them away.
“That’s good,” he exulted; “that is a lucky break. If they just get out of sight we will have the place to ourselves.”
There were no red patches on the screen now, and the picture thrown before them showed the big ship, its markings of red and white distinct even in the shadow-light of late afternoon, rising slowly into the air. It gathered speed marvelously and vanished to a speck beyond the land.
“We’re getting the breaks,” said McGuire crisply. “All right—let’s go!”
The submarine rose smoothly, and the sealed doors in the superstructure were opened while yet there was water to come trickling in. Men came with a roll of cloth that spread open to the shape of a small boat, while a metal frame expanded within it to hold it taut.
McGuire gasped with dismay as a seaman launched it and leaped heavily into the frail shell to attach a motor to one end.
“Metal!” the captain reassured him; “woven metal, and water-tight! You could not pierce it with anything less than a projector.”