the opening to the hatchway had been closed.

CHAPTER XII

THE SUBMARINE BELL

Kennedy groped about for a light, stumbling over boxes and bags.

"For heaven's sake, Craig," I entreated. "Be careful. Those packages are
full of the devilish things!"

He said nothing.

At least we had a little more freedom to move and I managed to find my
way over to a little round porthole and open it.

As I looked out, I almost fainted at the realization. The _Furious_ was
under way! We were locked in the hold--virtual prisoners--our only
company those dastardly infernal machines, whose very nature we did not
know!

Helplessly I gazed around me. There seemed to be only this one porthole,
open, looking out over the dark and turbulent water, which slipped
ominously past as we gained speed.

Why had Kennedy not foreseen this risk? I glanced at him. He had found
an electric light, connected with the yacht's dynamo, and, before
turning it on, closed and covered the port so that it threw no
reflection out.

Far from being disconcerted, on the contrary, he seemed rather pleased
than otherwise at the unexpected turn of events.

As I looked at our scant and cramped quarters I could see absolutely no
way of getting word to anyone off the _Furious_ who might help us.

What he was working on I did not know, but if it was some sort of
wireless, even if we were able to send a message, what hope was there
that it would get past the delicate wireless detector which this
criminal must have somewhere near for tapping messages that were being
flashed through the air? Had we not heard him say that the signal was to
be an S O S sent, as it were, from the fleet far out on the ocean?

I could well have believed that Kennedy could rig up some means of
communication. But, if the possessor of this terrible infra-red ray, or
wireless wave, secret should learn that we, too, knew it, the only
result that he would accomplish would be to insure our destruction
immediately.

It was a foggy night and a drizzle had set in. The _Furious_ could not
under such circumstances make such good speed as she was accustomed to
make. Fortunately, also, the waves were not running high.

Craig had taken a desperate chance. How would he meet it? I watched him
at work, fascinated by our peril.

Finishing as quickly as he could, he put out our sole electric light,
unscrewed the bulb and attached to the socket a wire which he had
connected with the instrument