Rhinds no longer objected.  All his force, all his will appeared to have departed.  He moved along, now, like a puppet.

Down at the water-front a naval launch was in waiting.  In this the entire party was taken out to the “Thor.”  Captain Driggs received the callers on the platform deck, and Admiral Townsley stated the object of the visit.

“Why, Admiral,” replied Captain Driggs, honestly, “I have no knowledge that there was an extra torpedo aboard.  Yet, of course, there’s a place where such a thing might have been hidden.”

“Take us to it,” requested the Admiral.

Captain Driggs led the visitors below.  There, in the cabin floor, he pointed to a well-concealed trapdoor.  It opened upon a very considerable space between cabin floor and keel.

“This space certainly would accommodate a torpedo,” declared Admiral Townsley.  “Mr. Rhinds, if we could prove that you had a torpedo in this space the other day, there would be an almost complete case, wouldn’t there?”

“But I didn’t have,” cried Rhinds, with cunning insistence.

“Mr. Driggs,” pursued the admiral, “we shall want you as a witness at the investigation on board the ‘Oakland.’  My aide will hand you a subpoena.  This, I believe, gentlemen, is all we have to do here.”

Looking years older, yet holding up his head in a certain kind of bravado, John Rhinds returned to shore with the party.

No sooner had Rhinds entered the hotel than a bell-boy moved over, drawing him aside and saying something in a low tone.

“I’ll wager that talk would interest us, if we could hear it,” remarked Jack Benson, sarcastically, to his friends.

Rhinds, however, turned and hurried off.  In five minutes he was back in the lobby.  Eagerly he glanced about for the Farnum party, and located it.  Then he moved over to where Farnum and his submarine boys sat.

“Farnum,” breathed the old man, anxiously, “I’ve a favor to ask of you.”

“That’s strange,” replied the shipbuilder, coolly.

“I won’t term it a favor, then,” went on the other, restlessly.  “I will put it another way.  As a simple act of justice will you meet two people whom I want you to hear?”

“I’ve heard a good deal, lately,” answered Farnum, reluctantly.

“I ask this as a matter of justice.  Won’t you and young Benson step down the corridor with me?”

“How long will this interview take?” demanded Farnum.

“Only a very short time.”

“Well, lead on, then.”

Farnum and Captain Jack stepped down a corridor in the wake of their enemy.

Rhinds led them into the ladies’ parlor.  Farnum and Jack caught sight of two anxious faced women—­one, a refined woman of middle age, the other a beautiful girl of sixteen.

“Mr. Farnum, and Mr. Benson, my dear,” announced John Rhinds, in oily tones.  “Gentlemen, my wife, and my daughter, Helen.  Both have something to say to you, gentlemen.  Be seated, won’t you?”