“No, I’ll wait until I think it’s safe.”
Tom studied his chart, then blew the ballast tank until the periscope nicked the top of the green waves. He turned the handle and swept the horizon.
“There she is to port!” he said excitedly. “Spaniel Island! And Dansitt is heading directly for the channel.”
“Now what do we do?” Bud inquired.
“We’ll stand by and see what develops. I’m sure the pirates have these waters fortified against such visitors as ourselves.”
He stood aside while Bud glued his eyes to the periscope.
“There doesn’t seem to be a thing on the island, Tom,” Bud remarked. “Oh, yes, I see something now. It looks like a fisherman’s hut among those leaning trees.”
“The pirates’ hideout must be underground,” Tom said.
PERILOUS WATERS 175
“Or under water,” Bud conjectured.
“We’ll soon find out,” Tom said.
As he cut the motors, the periscope picked up an unusual sight. The Devilfish had surfaced four hundred yards ahead and was zigzagging cautiously toward Dog’s Collar Channel.
“Oh, oh,” Bud said, turning from the eyepiece. “The place is mined!”
“I thought so,” Tom remarked. “Well, let’s see what Dansitt does now.”
Tom flipped the television connection to the periscope, and he and Bud had a front-row seat in the drama unfolding before them. The Devilfish cut left and right and straight ahead again, threading her way through what the boys believed was a mine field.
“Pretty clever,” Bud remarked. “I wish we had their chart.”
“We don’t need a road map,” Tom remarked, smiling at his partner. “I’ll take her down and we can look around. If it’s not too dangerous, we’ll try to negotiate the mines ourselves.”