"If there's anything wrong, good luck to you," sounded the cool voice of
Lieutenant Commander Mayhew, from the gunboat's rail.
"Thank you, sir."
No sooner had the moorings been cast loose from than Eph sounded the slow speed ahead bell. Within sixty seconds the propellers of the "Farnum" were doing a ten-knot stunt, which was soon increased to fourteen.
One of the seamen now stood, by to swing the searchlight under Eph's orders.
By the time that the submarine reached the mouth of the bay the light faintly picked up a spread of white sail, off to the East.
"That's the knockabout," cried Eph, excitedly. "Now, see here, keep that ray right across the boat as soon as we get half a mile nearer."
"It'll show the boat that you're chasing 'em, sir," advised the midshipman.
"I know it," admitted Eph. "But it will also keep the rascals from dumping my friends overboard without our catching 'em at it."
"What do you think the men in charge of that boat are, sir—pirates?"
"They're mighty close to it, if they've shanghaied Mr. Benson and Mr.
Hastings and put to sea with 'em," rejoined Eph. Then he rang for
more speed. Down below, Williamson almost instantly responded. The
"Farnum" now fairly leaped through the water.