“You don’t give me any chance to—”

“Silence!” ordered Hal, taking a step toward him.

Sam Truax opened his mouth to make some retort, then wisely changed his
mind, dropping back into his former seat.

The noon meal was served to all hands. By the time it was well over the
mouth of the Bay was in sight, the broad Atlantic rolling in beyond.

The sea, when reached, proved to be almost smooth. It was ideal weather
for such a cruise.

Then straight East, for an hour they went, getting well out of the path of
coasting vessels.

“Hullo! What in blazes does that mean?” suddenly demanded Hal, pointing
astern at starboard.

The “Pollard” lay tossing gently on the water, making no headway. Hardly
ten seconds later the “Hudson” signaled a halt.

Then followed some rapid signaling between the gunboat and the submarine
that had stopped. There was some break in the “Pollard’s” machinery, but
the cause had not yet been determined.

“Blazes!” muttered Jack, uneasily. “It couldn’t have happened at a worse
time. This looks bad for our firm, Hal!”

The “Farnum” now lay to, as did the “Hudson,” for the officer in command