"Now, come up and get the manhole open," called the young skipper.
"Let's all have a notion again of how it feels to stand in the open air."
Messrs. Farnum and Pollard had, by this time, completed the captivity of Bill Henderson by wrapping around him and securing many and many a turn of half-inch rope.
As the manhole was opened Captain Jack stepped out, taking the deck wheel. The others, all except the prisoner, crowed out after him. Thus they ran along for a mile or two, under the slower electric power.
"That crazy fellow," uttered Jacob Farnum, "had some mania on his mind that we were all great sinners, and that he'd save the whole lot of us by killing us under water."
"It seems strange," muttered Hal, "for even a crazy man to have the nerve to destroy himself slowly in such a way."
"Humph, no; nothing new in that line," returned Mr. Farnum.
"What are we going to do with him, sir?" inquired Captain Jack.
"Well, we're not going to turn in at any of the coast towns to give him up," replied the builder. "We'll keep right along until we join the fleet, and then we'll ask the advice of some naval officer."
When, at last, all had become accustomed to the world to which they had returned, Hal and Eph went below, to turn on the gasoline power a short time the "Pollard" was kicking the water at the exhilarating gait of eighteen miles an hour.
"How did it come, sir, that you made it eighteen miles, instead of knots?" asked Captain Jack, after a while.