“You boys awake?” bellowed the wrathful voice of Mr. Farnum.  Instantly, almost, two state-room doors were yanked open, while the builder went on: 

“Oh, that was a fine trick that was played on us last night.  As soon as I opened my eyes this morning I telephoned to Sebogue.  I got the whole story.  Arthur Miller is a defaulter to the tune of a very large fortune.  He must have had the cash in that satchel.  And he made us tools of his!  Made us aid him in his flight, and put him beyond the reach of the law!  Oh, if I should ever get my hands on that rascal again!”

It was plain that the boatbuilder was angry all the way through.  He stamped in a temper.  As quickly as the boys could get on their clothing they came out to hear the rest of the story.

“Arthur Miller,” resumed Mr. Farnum, angrily, “was supposed to be a rich man, and at one time no doubt he was.  But he got into speculation.  He was guardian of the fortune of his orphaned niece, Grace Desmond, a very sweet girl whom I’ve seen.  Miller must have lost some of her fortune in his mad speculations.  At any rate, he tried fearfully hard to marry his son, Fred, to her.  I suppose he felt that if Miss Desmond became his daughter-in-law she couldn’t very well prosecute her faithless guardian.  But Miss Desmond, who will be of age in a few days, would have none of her Cousin Fred for a husband.  She must have suspected much, too, for she had engaged lawyers and accountants to go over the state of her affairs.  The whole party were at the house yesterday, when Miller and his son slipped out and got away in the son’s sloop.  It is believed that Arthur Miller converted all the rest of his niece’s fortune into cash, and arranged with the schooner to pick him up in the night.”

“Then I think I understand, sir,” broke in Jack, quietly, “how that sloop came to capsize.  I couldn’t understand that before.  But the Millers, father and son, must have figured that the overturned sloop would be found, and that they would be believed to have drowned.  That would shut off pursuit.  So whichever of the pair is a good sailor—­”

“That’s the son, Fred,” interposed Mr. Farnum.

“Then Fred Miller, after fixing life preservers on both of them, must have watched for his chance at a good puff of wind, close-hauled on the sheet and sent the boat over.  That explains why they weren’t very cordial with us last night.  Our overhauling them prevented their being reported drowned accidentally.”

“Oh, confound them!  Drat them!” roared Mr. Farnum.  “Making me, and the rest of us, accomplices of a dastardly defaulter.  If I ever run afoul of that crowd again—­if I ever get my hands on them—­won’t I make them smart for their trick!”

Nor were the submarine boys much less angry over the part they had all been made to play.

CHAPTER XIV

AN UP-TO-DATE REVENGE