"Nor have you beaten the Pollard crowd at any point along the road, that
I can remember."
"Wait!" retorted Radwin, mysteriously.
These two villains were just sipping from their last cups of coffee when, even in the dining room, there reached their ears the muffled sound of gunfire from the bay.
"What's that?" demanded Radwin. "I want to hear the rest of that!"
He hurried through the dining room to the front of the lobby.
"There it goes," he cried, as Rhinds, puffing somewhat, joined him.
"First, the gunfire, then seven long whistles, followed by—wait!"
As the whistling ceased another gun boomed forth.
"That's the emergency signal, to call all hands back who belong on submarines," uttered Radwin, wheeling about. "We must get our hats and coats, and hustle down to the water front."
Radwin, had in truth, read the signal aright. It was the signal that the naval board had announced in case, at any time, there should be sudden, official news for the officers and crews of the rival submarines.
"What can it be, I wonder?" pondered John Rhinds, as they hurried through a street that led to the pier.