In the excitement, young Benson was forgotten.  Freed from assault, he leaped to his feet.

The flare of light had come from two bull’s-eye police lanterns, held in the open doorway below.

“There are the scoundrels, men!  Grab them!” shouted a voice of authority.

The speaker and two other men were in police uniforms.  Four other men there were in ordinary civilian garb.

In the excitement Jack Benson let his fist fly, knocking one of the sailors headlong down the stairs.  But the submarine boy did not pause there.  His other fist, landed on the second sailor, sending him after the first.

“Club their heads off, if any of ’em put up a fight,” commanded the police officer in charge.

Two other men, not in sailors’ uniform cowered on the stairs, close to the young submarine captain.  There was no fight, beyond the blows that young Benson struck.  Cowed by the unexpected appearance of the law’s force, the quartette of rascals surrendered.  There was a clicking of handcuffs.

“Your chief thought I was crazy, or telling him fairy stories over the telephone,” laughed Captain Jack Benson.  “Now, I guess—­”

“I am the Chief of police,” retorted the officer in authority.  “I thought that, if anything such as you described were happening in Colfax, then I’d better come along myself to investigate.  But now, perhaps you can explain more than you did over the ’phone from the Somerset House?”

“I have the best of reasons,” Jack replied, “for imagining that two of my friends have disappeared by the same trick that was tried on me.  If that is so, I’m mighty anxious to find them as soon as possible.”

“Do any of you scoundrels know where this young gentleman’s friends are?” demanded the chief, turning to glare at his prisoners, lined up along the wall in the lower hallway.  “The man that talks quickly now may get off easier than the rest, later on.”

“There’s two boys bound and gagged in the sub-cellar of this place,” spoke one of the two prisoners not in uniform.

“Good enough,” nodded the chief of police, looking at the informant.  “Officer Davis, you come with me.  You may come, too, Mr. Benson.  The rest of you wait where you are.”

The door to the cellar was locked, but the police chief, with a skeleton key, soon had the lock forced.  Passing down into the cellar, their way lighted by one of the bull’s-eye lanterns, they found a trap opening upon a stairway down into the sub-cellar below.

Here they came upon Hal and Eph, both securely bound and gagged, and lying on piles of old rags.  It was not long ere the two submarine boys were free and on their feet, wholly overjoyed.

“Great Scott!  How did you ever find us here?” quivered Eph Somers.

“I’ll tell you when we get away from here,” smiled Skipper Jack.

Up the stairs they went.  One of the police party, in the meantime, had gone out to telephone for a covered police van.  Into this the four prisoners were hustled and locked securely in.