The submarine boys had stepped into a little hollow, just off the road, and barely below a rise in the ground.  There were trees and bushes about to aid them in concealing themselves.  If they saw anyone coming their way they could easily find better hiding.

No one came, however.  Dark found the boys desperately hungry.

“Of course we didn’t think to bring anything to eat,” uttered Eph, disgustedly.  “What are we going to do about it?”

“We’ve got to each of us take a village, presently, enter it and search,” replied Captain Jack.  “With only one of us to each village, it will be tough luck if each one can’t find some one who has enough food to sell a little of it.”

“How soon are we going to start?” asked Eph, hopefully.

“Well, supper time will be the best time to go through the villages,” decided the young submarine skipper “If Millard has taken refuge with anyone who lives in one of these villages, he’ll be more likely to show himself at supper time than at any other.”

“It won’t take long to look into each of the houses,” muttered Hal.  “There aren’t many in any one of the villages.”

“If we don’t espy our man at table,” Captain Jack went on, “we’ll have to try other means of finding him out.  You two will know what to do when you’re on the ground.  If Millard is anywhere in the village that you go to look through, don’t fail to find him—­that’s all.”

Jack chose, for himself, the northernmost village.  Hal took the next one, and Eph the southernmost.

“Now, remember, fellows,” breathed Benson, sharply, as they parted, “the one great thing is not to fail!”

The night was dark and the sky overcast as the submarine boys parted to go their several ways.

“I think I can understand how Eph feels about his stomach,” grimaced Jack, as he strode along.  “I don’t believe I’d balk, just now, at the plainest food ever cooked.  Why, I haven’t eaten since this morning!”

The evening being rather warm, most of the houses, as Jack neared the village, proved to have open windows.  Lights shone, and the fishermen and their families could be seen at table.

No one appeared in the street, at first.  Jack strolled down the principal street, looking into each house without much difficulty.  Yet the one face that he sought was not visible.

Down at the further end of the street Benson came upon a tumble-down-looking grocery store.

“What kind of sandwiches can you put me up?” queried the submarine boy, casually.

“Stranger, eh?” asked the man behind the counter, staring curiously.

“Yes; haven’t you had any other strangers here lately?”

“Not as I knows on,” replied the man, a shaggy, unkempt-looking fellow of forty.

“None here to-day, eh?” asked Jack, taking out a half-dollar and toying with it on the counter.

“Don’t remember anybody very special,” replied the storekeeper.