"Well," said one of the newcomers in a voice which plainly betrayed his foreign origin; "well, did you do as you said you would?" "Yes," responded Barton; "I've got the drawings here. They are not complete, however, and you will have to give me more time." "As you were told at Bridgeport, before you left for this island, you can have all the time you want, only make the job complete." "You can depend upon me to do that," was the response. "So long as I'm well paid, I'll sell out all I know, and that's about everything about the Barr submarine." Here another voice, that of the second man who had left the boat, struck in: "What about the models?" "I've got them hidden up here in the sand," came Barton's voice in reply. "I'd have had them ready but two blooming kids trailed me here." "Trailed you? What do you mean?" demanded the voice of the man who had first spoken and who, with the solitary exception noted, had carried on most of the conversation. "Why, this Ensign Hargreaves, this Navy dude, saw fit to bring a band of Boy Scouts down here. They're the nosiest kids ever, and I half think they suspect me of not being all I appear to be." "That's a good guess," whispered Rob to Merritt. Merritt could not refrain from a quiet chuckle. "As a long distance and local guesser, Barton takes the palm," he breathed. "Hush!" murmured Rob under his breath: "What are they up to now?" "Going to dig up those models, I guess. Barton must have stolen them from the workshop at odd moments." Right then something happened that gave Merritt a shock. Rob rose to his feet and started toward the beach. The men that the two Boy Scouts were watching had headed inland, evidently to aid Barton in uncovering the hidden models. "Have you gone crazy, Rob? Lie down here," cautioned Merritt. "Not much," was the response; "I'm going to do some reconnoitering while I've got the chance." "What do you mean?" "That I'm going down to have a look at that boat, and if I can I'm going to shove her off and thus leave those men prisoners on the island." "By ginger, Rob, you are a great fellow for ideas. If only you can cast the boat adrift, we'll have those chaps bottled up as securely as if they were in a jail." "Wait here till I come," responded the boy leader. "I won't be gone more than ten minutes." "I'd like to come with you, Rob." "No; this is a job I can do best alone." Rob noiselessly slipped away. The boat from which the mysterious men had landed was plainly discernible as a black blot on the sandy beach. Rob tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, but against the white strip of sand he felt as noticeable as an elephant. However, he gained the boat without interruption. Its bow had been built up, apparently, to make it more seaworthy, and the boy noticed that a small door had been cut leading into the space beneath the raised bow. He had hardly discovered this when he was startled to hear voices close at hand.