Yet, had he known it, he was letting slip through his fingers the possibility of earning a far larger sum. For the man with the queer eyes was Ivan Karloff, a notorious anarchist, for whom a reward of five thousand dollars was offered, following a bomb outrage in New York, and his companion was Berghoff himself. What were these two men doing in Bellport? Why did they want a fast boat for a mysterious night trip? The answers to these questions would have held a burning interest for our friends on the submarine island. Like a vicious snake, Berghoff was preparing to strike what he hoped would be a vital blow at the _Peacemaker_ and her guardians. Crafty and unscrupulous, he had invested in his services Ivan Karloff, whose price for dangerous undertakings was high, but whose skill in his nefarious line of endeavor was supreme. It was about midnight when Lem Higgins' motor boat crept up to a spot not far from where the _Peacemaker_ lay at anchor. Behind her she towed the promised small boat. Berghoff, as we must now call the old man, was at the engines. His companion was steering. "Is this near enough?" inquired Karloff, in a low tone, as Berghoff slowed up the engines. "Yes. We want to run no chances. It would not be pleasant for either of us to be nipped now." No more words were exchanged till the anchor was noiselessly let drop. Then Berghoff spoke. "Have you got everything?" "Yes; it's all in the bag--the wire, the batteries, and all. Wonder what those farmers would have done if they could have guessed what else we had in there?" "Gone through the ceiling, I reckon," chuckled Berghoff grimly; "but come on, let's get to work. We may have a long job to find the submarine." "Yes, and we've no time to lose. After the job's done the quicker we put the Atlantic between us and Uncle Sam, the better," was the reply. "You're not nervous, are you?" "Nervous! My friend, I have done more dangerous jobs than this." Depositing the bag carefully in the small boat, the two men rowed off. They made absolutely no noise as they proceeded, the reason for this being that the oars had been carefully muffled soon after they left Bellport, and felt free from observation. After ten minutes or so of rowing, Berghoff laid a hand on his companion's arm. "What is it?" asked Karloff, who was rowing. "Look right ahead. What's that?" "The glow of a light. Can that be it?" "It must be. That light is reflected from the conning tower. There is somebody on board." "That matters not, if they are not on deck. Even so, we can take care of them." "You mean to hurl it?" "Yes; but I'd rather fasten it to the craft itself. It's safer for us and more effective." A diabolical grin stole over the anarchist's face as he spoke. He resumed his cautious rowing. "There's no one on deck," declared Berghoff, as they crept closer to the dark outlines of the anchored submarine. "Good; then we can do our work quickly. Have you everything ready?"