“We're inside of that submarine you saw enter a few hours ago,” explained the Englishman shortly.
Leonard stared around with new eyes. “So this is a submarine! Do you know anything about them? What's that spirit level for?” He pointed at a horizontal gauge.
“Measures air pressure—it's not a level.”
“What's in these steel tanks overhead?”
“Compressed air.”
“What's that you are getting into?” Here Caradoc lifted the lid, and Madden got a view. “Say, that's a torpedo, isn't it?” he asked quickly as he saw a long needle-pointed steel cigar with propeller and rudder on the aft end.
The Englishman made no reply. He leaned over and selected a small steel crowbar from a tool locker, drew it out with a quick nervous movement.
“Say!” cried Madden catching the strange expression on the face of his friend, “are you going to try to launch this and escape on it—escape on a torpedo?”
A mirthless smile flickered over the Englishman's gray face. “Nothing so fanciful.”
