"You youngsters had better get out on deck, with lines to heave," suggested Mr. Pollard. So Jack called up Hal and Eph. After Benson had stepped out on the platform deck Hal passed out three long, light lines.
Up to within a hundred feet of the wreck ran the submarine boat, then stopped, lying parallel with the capsized craft.
"Can you catch a line, if we throw it?" hailed Jack.
"Yes," came the answer. The voice was dull. There was no enthusiasm about it.
"They don't seem very glad to see us," muttered the submarine boy to the inventor, who had stepped out to the deck wheel. "I wonder if they're dazed and weak?"
Then to the wrecked ones Jack called:
"How long since you capsized?"
"Since just after sundown," replied the younger of the pair clinging to the hull. Again his voice was sulky.
"There's something queer about this," whispered Benson to Mr. Pollard. "They don't seem a bit glad to be pulled off that hull. Besides, they must have been the worst sort of lubbers to capsize a boat in any breeze that has been blowing this day. I don't see how they managed it."
"Throw them a line," directed Mr. Farnum, who had just come out on deck.