“This wretch, Millard, and I had a pretty rough-and-tumble time of it,” Hal broke in.  “At last, though, he gave me a blow in the wind that put me right down and out, for a little while.  Then he got the handle of the magneto and pumped it.”

“Glad I started down the slope just when I did,” nodded Skipper Jack, dryly.  “If I hadn’t—­well, what’s the use of talking about it?”

Forcing Millard to get upon his feet, the boys inspected, first the magneto battery, to which was attached wire buried in the ground.  Then up the slope they went, to find a miniature crater, some ten feet deep and at least fourteen feet across, where the mine had been exploded.

“Say, it’s hard, even yet, to understand why I wasn’t killed,” muttered Jack Benson.  “But here we are, standing here, thinking about ourselves, when that fellow, Gray, is getting away with a package that we ought to have.  Come along, fellows!  And you, Millard, if you try to bold back on us, you’ll learn some new things in the way of discomfort!”

Thus warned, and realizing that his determined young captors were in a savage frame of mind, the long-legged one didn’t try to lag.  All four appeared in the village in which Eph had prowled for information.  The appearance of the handcuffed prisoner stirred up a lot of curiosity.  Eph, however, showed his written authorization for taking Millard in the name of the United States government, so no one offered the captive any aid or sympathy.

But the submarine boys met with disturbing news.  They heard that a little more than a half an hour before, Gray, still carrying a big package, had embarked on his chartered schooner, and had put to sea.

“Had we better charter something and go in chase?” wondered Hal.

“What’s the use?” demanded one of the fishermen.  “The ‘Juanita’ is four miles or more out to sea, by this time, and the night’s dark you couldn’t see her.  And there’s no craft hereabouts fast enough to catch the ‘Juanita.’”

“Besides,” whispered Jack, in his chum’s ear, “we have no power to overhaul a craft at sea.”

So, making the best of the situation, the submarine boys hired a driver, horse and wagon at the village, and started on their return to town.

CHAPTER XI

FACING THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY

Jack was the first to enter Lieutenant Ridder’s room at the hotel.  The young engineer officer jumped up out of his chair, looking somewhat angry.

“Look here, Benson,” expostulated the lieutenant, “what sort of way is this to use me?  Here I’ve been loafing about here for hours, and you haven’t sent or brought me word of any kind.  You—­”

“We’ve brought you something better,” smiled Jack Benson, throwing the door further open.  “Here is Millard, himself.”

Millard came in, a policeman at his side, for the submarine boys had hailed the first policeman they met inside the city limits, and had explained to him.