the boy.

Occasionally, when the mandolin sounds ceased for a few moments, Benson
rested, too. It would never do to take the risk of having his slight
noise overheard.

At last! The saw went through the ring, proclaiming the task all but
finished. First, with trembling fingers, the submarine boy replaced the
saw in its case. Then, with another tough little tool, he started
patiently to bend the severed ends of the ring metal sufficiently far
apart. In this he succeeded finally.

Removing the padlock, he let the hasp fall away from the staple. On the
floor above the mandolin was twanging merrily, the voices of the
Italians rising somewhat in their song.

With his pulses throbbing, Jack Benson essayed to raise the bulkhead.
Glory! It rose! A moment later Captain Jack Benson was out in the
open, under the cloudy skies.

No time did he lose there, however. Stealing softly for the woods, he
sped on into them. Nor did he cease his hurried gait until he had
covered at least a quarter of a mile.

"Not much risk of their finding me, now, even if they're wise at last,"
reflected the submarine boy, slowing down to an easier walk.

In all, Captain Jack must have gone nearly three-quarters of a mile from
the scene of his late confinement when something occurred that made him
fairly jump.