"Then we've got a craft that can chase any smack on the Atlantic coast," declared. Eph, stoutly.
"Of course; if we knew which craft to overhaul, and had the authority to do it."
"Authority? Then what's the matter with the people at the Fort?" demanded Eph.
"Their authority runs only on the land. Besides, by the time we got through the red tape, and got started, any smart smack, in a good wind, would be forty miles the other side of the horizon."
"Are you going to take this long drive, then?" asked Hal Hastings, rather dubiously.
"Yes," declared Jack Benson, promptly. "Hal, old fellow, any trail is best where it's freshest."
"I reckon you can git in, now, gents, if ye want," called the driver.
Seated in the cab the submarine boys set out to meet whatever might be before them in Cobtown. Had they possessed the gift of prophecy—
However, none of us possess that!