As the sloop neared the mouth of the little bay, and her lines became
rather indistinct in the darkness, Eph Somers turned to resume his pacing
of the deck.

“Hullo,” muttered the submarine boy, two or three minutes later. “Here’s
the shore boat coming on its regular trip. I wonder if Jack and Hal are in
it? It’s about time for them to be coming on board.”

But the shore boat, instead of coming out to the submarine, lay in at the
side gangway of the gunboat opposite, and Eph discovered that his two
comrades were not in the boat.

“I say,” hailed Eph, “have you seen Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings on shore!”

“No, sir,” replied the petty officer in charge.

Then one of the sailors in the boat spoke in an undertone.

“This man says, sir,” continued the petty officer, “that he saw your
friends, sir, going aboard a white knockabout sloop.”

“He did, eh?” demanded the astonished Eph. “How long ago was that?”

“Only a few minutes ago, sir,” replied the sailor.

“You’re sure you saw Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings?”

“Yes, sir.”