"Lieutenant Drascalo, eh?" murmured Mr. Damon. "I think
they made a mistake naming him. It ought to be Rascalo. He
looks like a rascal."
"Silenceo!" exclaimed the lieutenant, scowling at the odd
character'.
"Bless my spark plug! He's a regular fire-eater!" went on
Mr. Damon, who appeared to have fully recovered his spirits.
"Silenceo!" cried the lieutenant, scowling again, but Mr.
Damon did not appear to mind.
Admiral Fanchetti and several others of the gold-laced
officers remained aboard the submarine, while Tom and his
friends were hustled into the small boat and rowed toward
the warship.
"I hope they don't damage our craft," murmured the young
inventor, as he saw the admiral enter the conning tower.
"If they do, we'll complain to the United States consul
and demand damages," said Mr. Swift.
"I'm afraid we won't have a chance to communicate with the
consul," remarked Captain Weston.
"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Damon. "Bless my shoelaces,
but will these scoundrels--"
"Silenceo!" cried Lieutenant Drascalo quickly. "Dogs of
Americans, do you wish to insult us?"
"Impossible; you wouldn't appreciate a good, genuine
United States insult," murmured Tom under his breath.
"What I mean," went on the captain, "is that these people
may carry the proceedings off with a high hand.
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