“Yes,” snapped the bearded one, then turned to give his attention to Jack Benson, who was putting up an ineffectual fight while Hal slumbered on. “Now, see here, Benson, quit all your fooling!”
“You lemme up,” insisted the submarine boy, in a low, dull voice, though he swung both his arms in an effort to assert himself. “'M not goin' t' stay here. Lemme up, I say! 'M goin' back to—own boat.”
“The submarine?” jeered the bearded man.
“Yep.”
“Guess again, son,” laughed Curtis, jeeringly. “You're not going back aboard the submarine to-night.”
“Am so,” declared Benson, obstinately, though his tone was growing more drowsy every instant, and his busy hands moved almost as weakly as an infant's.
“Listen, if you've got enough of your senses left,” growled the bearded men. “You're not going back to the 'Farnum'—neither to-night, nor at any other time during the next few [pg 179] months. You're bound on a long cruise, but not on a submarine boat. I am the captain here, and I'll name the cruise!”
CHAPTER XVIII: HELD UP BY MARINES
It was barely a minute afterward that Jack Benson lapsed into a very distinct snore.