long bands of diffused light, although he could not guess its origin.
On the lowest deck, the American made out the small figure of a man marching back and forth with a gun.
At this sight, both boys stopped rowing, lifted the oars from tholes and began paddling noiselessly, canoe-fashion.
“That must be the accommodation ladder,” whispered Madden, “where the guard is.”
“Who are they afraid will board them?” queried Caradoc. “Mermaids?”
“It is a strange precaution to take in the Sargasso,” agreed the American. “It is going to make our entrance difficult.”
They ceased paddling now and drifted silently toward the monster.
“I wonder if they aren't smugglers,” hazarded Caradoc,
“Must be up-to-date, to use submarines—a submarine would defy detection, wouldn't it?”
“And rich—nobody but millionaire smugglers could get together all this paraphernalia.”
“I'll venture insurance is at the bottom of this fraud, Caradoc,” hazarded Madden.
