“Then—?” pursued Eph.

“Why, then I waited long enough to give the detectives a chance to reach the scene.  Then I went back and walked into the trap with the fake sailors.”

It was a story that was hugely enjoyed by the young submarine captain’s comrades.

“But who would put up such a queer job on us?” demanded Hal.

“It must be some one who didn’t want us to man a Pollard boat in to-morrow’s speed test, of course,” nodded Jack.  “It seems like a mean thing to say, and we ought to be sure, but I believe Rhinds and Radwin are the offenders.”

The more the submarine boys talked it over, the more they were inclined to fall in line with the guess that Rhinds and Radwin had been behind their troubles.

“Some one has got to suffer for this business, before we get through!” cried Captain Jack, his eyes flashing ominously.  “But come, now, fellows, we must go to bed, for we must have enough sleep if we’re to be good and fit in to morrow’s race.”

It was rather late, that evening when Messrs. Farnum and Pollard, still with John C. Rhinds, returned to the Somerset House.

“I don’t see our youngsters about, anywhere,” muttered Jacob Farnum.  “But their room keys are gone from the clerk’s rack, so I guess they’ve turned in, like sensible fellows.”

They did not know that Radwin himself had secretly removed the keys in order to create the impression that the boys were in bed.

Rhinds and Radwin talked in whispers, behind the locked door of another room.  They chuckled a long while, then shook hands and went to bed.

The boys, however, as we know, were safely aboard the submarine.

Mr. Farnum had left a call for eight o’clock in the morning.  It was about twenty minutes later that Farnum and Pollard knocked loudly on the door of the room occupied by Rhinds.

“Well?” demanded Mr. Rhinds, opening the door, and appearing, minus coat and vest.  “Ah, good morning, gentlemen.  Going down to breakfast?  I’ll be ready in a few moments.”

“Breakfast—­nothing!” retorted Jacob Farnum, sharply.  “Our young men are missing.  We went to their rooms this morning, and could get no answer.  We’ve had their doors opened with pass-keys—­our three young submarine officers haven’t been in their beds all night long!”

John C. Rhinds allowed his face to express more surprise than concern over this news.

“Oh, well,” he remarked, “boys will be boys, you know—­especially when they’re sailors.”

“Our boys are not that sort,” retorted Mr. Farnum, sharply.  “They are not hoodlums or racketers.”

“Then of course you’ll find ’em safe on one of your boats,” proposed Mr. Rhinds, innocently.  “Just two minutes, and I’ll go down to breakfast with you.”

Radwin, too, joined them.  He also expressed surprise, artfully.  All four went to the breakfast room together.  Messrs. Farnum and Pollard ate well enough, though they seemed badly worried.