"Lemme alone. What are you trying to do?" demanded Jack, swinging an arm.
Curtis dodged the light blow, then gripped Jack Benson resolutely.
"Now, see here, young man," hissed the bearded one, "I'm not going
to have any more nonsense out of you. Up into the berth you go!
Do you want me to hit you?"
Another man thrust his head down the cabin hatchway, showing an evil, grinning face.
"Got 'em right?" demanded the one from the hatchway.
"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, chill 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.