'That's no fish.' Then raising himself as
high as he could out of the water he sent a sharp cry for help pealing
through the darkness.
'Hallo! Hallo! Who's that?'
Never had Ken been happier to hear the sound of a human voice.
'Three survivors from the "Maid of Sker,"' he answered. 'Our boat's
upset.'
'Hang on!' came the quick reply. 'We'll have you out in a jiffy.'
There came low voiced orders, the low purr of an engine, and a low dark
bulk topped by a curious square-looking turret came gliding towards them.
'What is it?' muttered Roy in a dazed tone.
'A submarine,' Ken answered gladly. 'That's her conning tower. Here she
comes. Hang on to Gill, or the wash will take him off.'
A moment later, and the long gray craft swam up right alongside of the
dinghy. It was the most beautiful bit of steering imaginable. A hand
reached out and pulled the dinghy close against the hull, and strong arms
gripped and lifted the three aboard.
Ken felt himself swung gently up the conning tower, then he was lowered
with equal ease and skill through the open hatch.
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