“Now, my sneaky friends, talk!” Bud snapped. “What kind of a sightseeing trip did you plan?”
The frogmen’s jaws remained tightly clamped. Both looked flushed and sullen as they faced their captors.
“Got their lips zipped, I guess,” Mel said disgustedly.
Bud decided to try another tack. “Doesn’t matter,” he said carelessly. “We know they’re pals of the Mirovs.”
Both men started as if they had been stung. Bud followed up quickly, hoping to prod them into some unguarded remark.
“Just as we thought!” he snarled. “A couple of low-down Brungarian rebels!
And up to their usual amateurish spy stunts!”
The raiders’ eyes blazed, but they maintained silence. Both, however, kept darting looks of keen interest at the Americans’ hydrolung gear.
124 THE ELECTRONIC HYDROLUNG
Just as Bud was wondering how he could get the prisoners to the nearest police headquarters, a jeep came bouncing into view across the sand.
“Hey! Police!” Mel exclaimed with a happy grin.
“We’re in luck,” Bud said. “They can take these creeps off our hands.”
The jeep braked to a halt a few yards away, and two uniformed officers hopped out.
“What’s going on here?” said one, who was wearing a sergeant’s stripes. The jeep had the words BEACH PATROL stenciled on it in white paint.
“We just nailed these two Brungarian frogmen,” Bud explained. “A sub put them ashore-probably as spies or saboteurs. They won’t talk to us, but maybe you can pump them at headquarters.”
The startled sergeant turned a cold eye on the two prisoners. “Got anything to say for yourselves?” When neither answered, he unholstered his revolver and covered them. “Better take off those wires and put bracelets on them, Mike,” he told his fellow officer.