"It is a big problem," admitted Joseph Baldwin, his own face as white as that of the young skipper.
"Have you any orders, sir?" asked Halstead, quickly.
"No," replied Joseph Baldwin, slowly. "All I can do is to guess. That's all you can do, either, Captain Halstead; but your guess is just as likely to be the right one as is my own."
The "Panther" was now traveling at a speed of twelve miles, sounding her fog-horn twice in the minute.
"The worst of it is that our horn betrays us to the enemy," muttered Tom. "They have no respect for the laws of the sea, so that we give them guide, while they give us nothing in return."
"We won't quite give up hope," uttered Mr. Baldwin, dispiritedly. "At the same time, I fancy we're now as good as whipped. I don't see any chance for us."
"The only chance that's left," replied Skipper Tom, "is the chance of luck. Until you give other orders, sir, I shall keep to the same course, and at the same speed."
Baldwin nodded, turning away. Somehow, the depressing news had passed around. The cabin passengers came pouring out on deck, asking well-nigh innumerable questions of the young captain and of the sadly perplexed owner.
"All I can say," replied Mr. Baldwin to his questioners, "is that we must depend upon the slender chance of--luck."
"And all I can say," added Captain Tom Halstead, "is--wait!"
Gaston Giddings, who, in the morning, had been so insistent on having Cragthorpe set at liberty, now underwent a complete change of feeling in the matter.
"That wretch in the brig could tell us something about this latest trick," declared the young bank president, quivering with wrath. "Mr. Baldwin, why don't you have the fellow brought on deck and made to confess whatever he may know about the plans of the Rollings crowd on the 'Victor'?"
"Even if Cragthorpe should know all about the enemy's plans," demanded the owner, "how could I make him confess if he didn't want to?"
"Torture him, if you have to, until he talks freely," snarled Gaston Giddings.
"That wouldn't do," negatived Baldwin. "This is the twentieth century, and we live under laws. We can't put men to the torture nowadays."
"Then let me go down and see Cragthorpe," cried Giddings, nervously. "I'll find a way to make him talk! Give me the key to the brig."