"Don't run back at anything like speed, please," begged Mr. Farnum, with a wan smile. It had cut the shipbuilder to the marrow to find his friend, Pollard, so badly hurt.
"Nothing faster than ten miles an hour," promised the chauffeur.
Once in the city the auto followed the ambulance to the hospital, where
Farnum went to see that every possible attention was given his friend.
But Mr. Graves had already made splendid arrangements for the care of
both injured men.
Then down to the Somerset went the able bodied survivors of the submarine party. Though they said nothing in the hearing of the strange chauffeur, they were no more than inside Jacob's Farnum's room when they let loose their indignation.
It was not many minutes, however, ere the chief of police arrived.
"I've been talking with Graves, gentlemen," announced the chief, "and I'm wholly satisfied that the rascal, Hodges, is the first one we want to find. When we get him we'll try to make him tell who's behind him."
"Did you get anything out of the four fellows you caught night before last?" asked Jack Benson.
"Not a word to amount to anything, so far," replied the chief. "But their case was continued a week by the court, and I'll find a way to make 'em talk! Just now, my whole thought is centered on finding Hodges."
"He isn't stopping at this hotel?" asked Jack.
"Not much! He wouldn't wait for us to come and gather him in like that," answered the chief. "No; I'm dragging the town, and I also have a man at the railway station, and another watching the water front."