"Turn him over to the police," spoke Jack, promptly. "Even if we fail
to prove anything else Hal can help me fasten a charge of felonious
assault on the scoundrel. That will be enough to keep him locked up
for a couple of years to come."

Gaston heard this with a falling jaw, though he did not venture to say
anything.

"Well, Jerry and me are ready whenever you are, mates," hinted big
Hickey.

Jack nodded, and they filed out, Jerry coming last of all to make sure
that the Frenchman did not lag behind.

"Now, stand up, me bucko," ordered Hickey, seizing the chauffeur's
collar as that worthy crawled through the bushes at the outer end of
the tunnel. "Tryin' to steal submarine secrets, was ye? So some
foreign nation'd have the trick of blowing our battleships to pieces,
and the sailors on 'em? Jerry, wot d'ye reckon 'ud be about right
for Frenchy!"

"Pass him over to me and I'll see," grinned the smaller sailor.

Hickey grasped the frightened chauffeur in both hands, then fairly
hurled him at the smaller sailor. Jerry struck him once, with each
lively fist, then sent the fellow spinning back to Hickey. The latter
caught Gaston, tossing him up in the air, then striking him hard as the
fellow came down. This done, the chauffeur was again hurled back at
Jerry. For some time the two sailors kept this up. It was rough,