"Who owns that submarine?" the captain jerked out.
"Captain Nemo, Jr., of Philadelphia," Matt answered, a little resentful because of the captain's curt manner.
He and his chums had captured the convicts and had thus performed a good deed for the Chilian government. It seemed to Matt as though he was entitled to a little more courtesy.
"Captain Nemo, Jr.," muttered the captain. "_Carramba!_ A fictitious name. There is a story about a Captain Nemo. Why do you talk to me like that?"
"I am telling you the truth!" answered Matt. "Will you tell me your name, sir?"
"So I may report this conversation to the naval officer aboard the _Grampus_. He will enter it in his log, which, at the end of this cruise, will be submitted to the navy department of our government."
"So!" he snapped. "You think me afraid? Ah, ha! I am Captain Enrique Sandoval, of the Chilian war ship _Salvadore_. Report it. What is it to me? Now, if you please, have you a wireless telegraph instrument aboard the submarine?"
"I don't know why I shouldn't admit it," answered Matt coolly.
"Why have you a wireless machine on your boat?" went on the captain.
Matt had no intention of telling this Captain Sandoval about his trouble with the Sons of the Rising Sun.
"That is my business, Captain Sandoval," said he.
"_Si_, and mine, too, as you will find. Yesterday, this war ship was in Smyth Channel. Her wireless machine was out of commission and could not be used. The station at Punta Arenas kept calling for me. _You_ answered! _You_ replied that your boat was the _Salvadore_! _You_ took the message about the escaped convicts from the air. Why? Because you wanted to find them, take them aboard, and help them escape! _Carramba!_"
Matt was astounded. Captain Sandoval punctuated his words by jabbing a long forefinger into the air, but Matt hardly saw the finger, or the wildly triumphant look on the captain's face.
"That is not true, Captain Sandoval," said Matt, his face flaming indignantly. "If we were trying to keep the convicts out of your hands, why should we turn them over to you, here in the strait?"
"Garcia told me," went on the captain. "He and his men were to pay you money to take them to the River Plate. You took them off the sailboat, and then you lost your courage and came westward along the strait to leave them at Punta Arenas."