"
It was, indeed, the lieutenant commander. As he stepped ashore, his
face coming into the circle of light cast by the lantern, his features
were seen to be white with anxiety.
"We have just looked into the cylinder," he announced, in a low voice.
"We found there enough gun-cotton to blow the 'Benson' into inch pieces.
It was a fearful crime to plan."
Jack Benson and Hal Hastings heard, but did not change color. There was
no sense in losing nerve over a disaster that had been averted in time.
"The first thing to do, of course," continued Lieutenant Commander
Kimball, "is to send instant word to Messrs. Trotter and Packwood.
They have a heap of work ahead of them."
"As to our own boat's crew," replied Jack, "I fancy the best thing we
can do is to go back on board, since we can't do anything here. One of
us will keep watch, and the rest of us can get some of a night's sleep
yet."
"Why, yes, if you youngsters can sleep, after such happenings," laughed
Kimball.
By this time Lieutenant Foster and two of his marines had followed the
trail of footprints as far as the hard road. Here all trace was lost.
"What you want to do, Williamson," declared Jack, as soon as the
submarine people were back on their own craft, "is to get into some
dry clothes and make yourself a pot of hot coffee.
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