t have told her better just what to try to do.
Now, he tried to explain, rapidly. The fault was not with her strength;
there was an exact knack needed in the use of the wrench.

On shore, in the yard, Josh Owen crouched low in his place of
concealment. He had failed to prevent Grace from starting in the
rowboat because, until it was too late, he did not believe the plucky
young woman had any such intention.

"It's too bad for the gal to go to the bottom, too," half sighed the
raging one. "But she shouldn't meddle."

Hal came swinging along down the street, having left Eph Somers behind
in the village. Through the yard came young Hastings, whistling. By
instinct he turned to look at the boat, and what he saw made him gasp,
then leap forward in the start of a sprint.

Straight down to the harbor's edge he raced. Then, seeing the rowboat
adrift, Hal, after one more look at the sinking submarine, leaped into
the water without stopping even to shed jacket or cap.

Splash! In the same instant that he sprang, Josh Owen jumped up.

"Come back here, or ye'll wish ye had!" raged the ex-foreman.

Hal Hastings heard, though he did not even take the trouble to answer,
but struck out frenziedly, for his chum's calls for help now rang in
his ears.

There was the sound of a discharge, a sharp split of fire from a weapon
that Owen held in his hand. A bullet struck the water just before
Hal's nose, dashing the spray back in his face.

"Come back here, I tell ye!" raged the ex-foreman.

"Josh Owen's voice!" throbbed Hastings, but he swam on with the strongest
strokes of which he was master. Then a succession of shots rang out.
Hal Hastings was in the gravest danger he had ever been in.

CHAPTER XVI

THE LAST SECOND OF THE NICK OF TIME

Despite the whistle of lead, minding only the spray that dashed into
his eyes, Hal Hastings swam on.

His one idea, at present, was to reach that submarine boat if it were
within human power to do so ere the boat, now nearly all submerged,
took the final plunge below the waves.

Grace Desmond did not quit her post, nor cease her heroic efforts to
turn on the compressed air. Yet she added her shrill shrieks to Jack
Benson's lusty yells for help.

The sounds of the shots from the shore gave them a momentary hope that
help of some sort was really on its way.

"It's the last second or two, if you mean to save us!" yelled Jack,
at the top of his voice.

Bang! bang! Josh