Then Berghoff spoke.

"Have you got everything?"

"Yes; it's all in the bag--the wire, the batteries, and all. Wonder what those farmers would have done if they could have guessed what else we had in there?"

"Gone through the ceiling, I reckon," chuckled Berghoff grimly; "but come on, let's get to work. We may have a long job to find the submarine."

"Yes, and we've no time to lose. After the job's done the quicker we put the Atlantic between us and Uncle Sam, the better," was the reply.

"You're not nervous, are you?"

"Nervous! My friend, I have done more dangerous jobs than this."

Depositing the bag carefully in the small boat, the two men rowed off.

They made absolutely no noise as they proceeded, the reason for this being that the oars had been carefully m.u.f.fled soon after they left Bellport, and felt free from observation.

After ten minutes or so of rowing, Berghoff laid a hand on his companion's arm.

"What is it?" asked Karloff, who was rowing.

"Look right ahead. What's that?"

"The glow of a light. Can that be it?"

"It must be. That light is reflected from the conning tower. There is somebody on board."

"That matters not, if they are not on deck. Even so, we can take care of them."

"You mean to hurl it?"

"Yes; but I'd rather fasten it to the craft itself. It's safer for us and more effective."

A diabolical grin stole over the anarchist's face as he spoke. He resumed his cautious rowing.

"There's no one on deck," declared Berghoff, as they crept closer to the dark outlines of the anch.o.r.ed submarine.

"Good; then we can do our work quickly. Have you everything ready?"

"Yes; we'll be alongside in a minute. Don't make a failure of it."

"I have never failed yet," was the quiet reply, spoken in a voice so menacing and evil that it would have caused a shudder to run through any one less hardened than the man to whom it was addressed.

Rob flashed to the surface after a longer interval than Merritt would have believed it possible for anybody to remain submerged. As he appeared, Merritt rushed to aid him upon the slippery deck of the _Peacemaker_.

Rob shook his head, as Merritt tried to draw him up. Instead, he choked out:

"A pair of pliers. Quick! Our lives depend upon it."

Merritt, who had been working on the engine, happened to have the required tool in his pocket. Without a word, he handed it to Rob. From his leader's manner he knew that down there under the water the boy had discovered some deadly hidden peril. Breathlessly, he watched for his reappearance, for the instant he received the pliers Rob had dived.

In the rowboat which they had towed out from Bellport, Berghoff and his companion sat bending over some object. Had it been daylight it could have been seen that this object was a battery box.

Also, daylight would have revealed Berghoff's face as being white and drawn under his disguise; but his companion's evil countenance never changed an iota, as his long fingers sought and found the b.u.t.ton of the battery box which lay before him on a thwart.

From this box two wires led off into the darkness. When the b.u.t.ton was pressed a flash of electricity would pa.s.s through those wires and the climax of a fiendishly ingenious plot would be reached. In the tense silence that preceded the pressing of the b.u.t.ton, Berghoff's breath could be heard coming gaspingly. His companion, on the other hand, appeared as cool as an icicle.

"Are you certain we are far enough away?" stammered Berghoff.

"Absolutely. I have no desire to be hoisted by my own petard. Now then, if you are ready, say the word."

"I--I----" stammered Berghoff.

"Bah! You are a coward; come, I am all ready."

"I don't mind the submarine, curse it; but it's the thought of the lives on board her."

"My friend, you are too sensitive. Come, are you ready?"

"Ye-es," choked out Berghoff, his teeth chattering, and the sweat pouring off his face. The man was shaking like a leaf, and his breath came raspingly from between his half-opened lips.

"Now!"

He steeled himself to utter the signal firmly, but it was merely a harsh whisper that issued from his dry throat.

The long fingers pressed down. Berghoff, swaying like a stricken thing, placed his hands before his eyes. But the sound that both had been expecting did not come. No roaring explosion followed the pressing of the b.u.t.ton, no flash of livid flame and shattering of the wonderful structure of steel they had hoped to destroy. A death-like stillness prevailed.

"You've failed!" choked out Berghoff.

His companion's eyes flashed in the darkness like a cat's. He swallowed convulsively.

"There is only one explanation," he snarled.

"And that is?"

"That they have discovered the mine. My friend, we had better be leaving as soon as possible. It will not be good for us to be found in this vicinity."

At that very moment two boys were standing with horror-stricken eyes on the deck of the submarine. In his hands Rob held a peculiar looking cylinder of steel. From one end of it hung two severed wires. It was so weighted and balanced as to float a distance of about five feet under the surface of the water.

"If I hadn't found those wires and cut them," Rob said, in an awe-stricken voice.

But Merritt did not answer. He could only clasp his companion's hand.

The realization of the fearfully narrow limit by which they had escaped death almost overcame him. The night was hot, but both boys shivered as if stricken with the ague. It was some minutes before they could give the alarm to those on sh.o.r.e. Then the rapid blowing of the whistle used by the submarine when on the surface signalled their companions.

Some fifteen minutes later two pale-faced, wild-eyed lads were explaining to an absorbed group the foiling of the diabolical plot against Uncle Sam's diving boat. It was not long after, that the submarine was rushing through the water for the nearest harbor.

"If we can arouse the police along the coast we may yet be able to capture the authors of this outrage," exclaimed the ensign, as at full speed the _Peacemaker_ clove through the waters.