start, but she hangs on like grim death. That's what makes me so sure
that it's the _Blucher_."

"Want my advice?" Crawshay asked.

"That's the idea," the captain acquiesced.

"Stoke her up, then, and drive full speed ahead. Take no notice of any
signals. Make for home with the last ounce you can squeeze out
of her."

"That's all very well," Captain Jones observed, "but there will be at
least half an hour during which we shall be within effective range.
She might sink us a dozen times over."

"Yes, but I don't think she will."

"Why not?"

"If the theory upon which I started this wild-goose chase is correct,"
Crawshay explained, "there is something on board this ship infinitely
more valuable than the ship itself to Germany. That is why I
think that she will strain every nerve to try and capture you, of
course, but she will never sink you, because if she did she would lose
everything her Secret Service have worked for in Germany ever since,
and even before the commencement of the war."

"It's an idea," the captain admitted, with a gleam in his eyes.

"It's common sense," Crawshay urged. "When I left Halifax, I was ready