As the piercing rays of light gleamed out over the waters before them the surface of the sea ahead was seen to be covered with floating litter.
"Jove, look at the wreckage!" uttered Lieutenant Danvers, jubilantly. "Everything about that old derelict that could float has come up to the surface."
"Do you think the derelict is utterly smashed, sir?" inquired Jack Benson, respectfully, for this trained naval officer knew more about such things than he did.
"That derelict is blown to kindling wood," exclaimed Danvers, himself manipulating the searchlight as they sailed through a sea littered with small wreckage. "That derelict will never menace any skipper afloat, from now on. Benson, lad, you did a wonderfully keen job."
"You don't think there'd be any risk, then, in sailing back and forth amid this wreckage?" asked Jack.
"Risk? Not a bit," retorted Danvers. "Why, look over there!" as he swung the searchlight in a new direction. "There's that submerged mast-stump, free of the wreck and floating horizontally, now."
Nor was it long before it was clear to trained eyes that the sunken derelict had been efficiently blown up. That water-logged ghost of a ship would never again be a source of peril to navigators.
"Now, you can turn your nose for Dunhaven, and with a clear conscience," chuckled Lieutenant Danvers. "And, while you're doing that, I'm going below for another look at the little leak."
Jack ran the "Hastings" the first few miles of her homeward course.Then he called Eph Somers to the wheel and went below to relax.
It was well on toward eight o'clock when the "Hastings" ran into the little harbor at Dunhaven and made moorings. The night watchman of the yard rowed out to meet them, bringing the news that Mr. Farnum, in the "Benson," had picked up the crew of the "Mary Bond" from two small boats at sea.
There was a light in the office, so Jack's party went inside. There they found Jacob Farnum at his desk, putting the finishing touches to a telegram.
"By Jove, I'm glad we went out after the poor fellows of the 'Mary Bond,'" cried Mr. Farnum, wheeling around. "We found them in sore straits, in two small boats, with only a pair of oars to each boat, and the sea roughening up every minute. They lost their fishing smack. Their boat struck on the stump of a mast of a sunken derelict. The smack sprung a big leak, this morning, and went down. I've just written a telegram to the Navy Department, Mr. Danvers, advising them of the location of the derelict as well as I could gather it from the captain of the late 'Mary Bond.'" With this, he handed Danvers the telegram he had written.
Lieutenant Danvers glanced at the telegram, and then handed it back with a smile.
"What do you mean, sir?" demanded Jacob Farnum, wonderingly.
"The telegram isn't necessary—that's all," replied the naval officer, with a smile. "We encountered that same sunken derelict—and Jack Benson blew her to smithereens!"
That night a machinist was stationed aboard the "Hastings" to watch the in-coming of water through the slight leak, and to apply the pump occasionally.
In the morning the submarine was hauled up into an improvised drydock and her hull plates examined. It was Lieutenant Danvers's first chance to realize how superbly these Pollard boats were built and put together. He examined the hull with unbounded enthusiasm. Then a gang of workmen started in to replace the two injured plates.
For the next three days the "Benson" was used in target practice. Jacob Farnum scurried up and down the coast, finding and buying suitable old craft for targets.
All three of the submarine boys had ample practice in the firing of torpedoes. After it was all over there were but four of the loaded torpedoes left in the shed labeled "Danger."
"If you could only have a little more practice," grumbled Williamson, good-humoredly, "this would soon be a safe town for a fellow to take a quiet smoke in."
The "Hastings" was now in the water once more, as sound and staunch as on the first day she was launched.
Then came a few days of idleness. Lieutenant Danvers left Dunhaven, intending apparently to return soon. Ewald and Biffens, the two sailors, were quartered at the hotel at government expense, and were likely to enjoy themselves until orders came.
Eph went home for two or three days. Jack and Hal slept on board the "Benson," while Williamson quartered himself aboard the "Hastings," which craft no longer carried any torpedoes.
One afternoon, as Jack Benson was strolling through the shipyard, Jacob Farnum, in the doorway of the office building, called to the young skipper.
"I suppose both boats are ready, Jack?" asked the shipbuilder.
"Quite, sir," nodded Benson.
He did not inquire for what they were expected to be ready. Jacob Farnum was one who liked to plan by himself, and to announce a new move only when he was ready for it.
"All right, lad," nodded Farnum. "Keep both boats ready for any instant move that may be required of them. That's all."
Again young Benson nodded, then strolled on out of the yard. Up on theMain street of the village he encountered his chum.
"There's something in the wind, Hal, for the boats," Jack announced.
"All right," nodded Hal. "We're ready when needed."
Nor did either one of them waste any time in wondering what the new move was to be. When Jacob Farnum wanted them to know he would tell them and not before.
The chums visited a moving picture show for an hour. Then, tiring of that, they came out into the street. The first, man they encountered, almost, was Lieutenant Danvers, in citizen dress.
"Back from your trip, sir?" Jack asked.
"Yes. Has Farnum told you what's in the wind?"
"He has only given us a hint, sir, that something may happen."
"Oh!" replied the naval officer, next adding: "That's rather queer on the whole."
"Not at all, sir," replied young Benson. "Mr. Farnum has a habit of telling us things only when he's ready."
"Yet when—" began Danvers, but checked himself.
"No matter what is in the wind, Mr. Danvers, there's no real need of posting us about anything until the time comes. Suppose Mr. Farnum wants us to start for China within an hour? The galley cupboard is already as full of provisions as it will hold. Both boats are in the best possible trim. We need only time, perhaps, to fill the gasoline tanks as full as they'll hold. Then we're ready to cast off and sail far the first stopping place on the route."
"You're great fellows for system, then. So I understand why Mr. Farnum doesn't have to post you far in advance."
"He certainly doesn't have to," Jack relied.
"Where are you going? Down to the yard?"
"Not yet. Mr. Farnum hasn't given us any instructions about hanging around."
"Oh!" responded Lieutenant Danvers, with a quizzical smile. "Well, I must be leaving you, now."
Hal gazed after the shore-bound naval officer for a few moments, then observed, dryly:
"I'm not a bit curious. Are you, Jack?"
"Of course not," smiled the young skipper. "All I want to know is what's in the air so suddenly."
"Going back to the yard earlier?"
"No; later," retorted Benson. "What is the use of letting folks suppose they have our curiosity aroused?"
In fact, when evening came on, instead of going to the "Benson" for supper, Jack and Hal stopped at the hotel.
Ewald and Biffens were there, at one of the tables, but the sailors seemed to be eating in more haste than usual. Then, as they left the dining room, they saluted the young captain and engineer.
"Hurrying back to the yard, sir?" asked Ewald.
"No," said Jack, quietly.
"That's queer. Them's our orders. We're going now, sir," replied Ewald.
"You and I appear to be the only two in Dunhaven who don't know what is up," observed Hal Hastings, dryly.
"I don't believe Ewald or Biffens know what is on hand," Jack answered."They've orders to report back in haste. That's all."
"Then hadn't we better hurry back to the yard, too?" inquired Hastings.
"No; we haven't any orders."
"But Mr. Farnum may be wondering where we are."
"Then the sailors can tell him; they know."
Jack dawdled over his supper.
"Going back to the yard now?" asked Hal.
"No; to the bookstore."
"Hm!" muttered Hal. "I begin to think you're going to keep Mr. Farnum guessing, to pay him back in his own coin."
"No; I'm going up to the store to pick out a small stack of books. Hal, I believe we're going on a cruise, and I mean to have something to read."
"I wonder if you know more than you've told me?" mused Hal, aloud.
"Not a blessed thing. I'm on the guessinglist, and I'm doing the bestI know how at guessing."
Hal didn't say any more, but accompanied his chum to the book-store. There was a package for each of them to carry when they came out. Then they headed down, toward the shipyard.
It was well on toward one o'clock by the time that the chums stepped through the gate into the yard.
"Mr. Farnum is still at his office. That's late for him," remarked Hal.
"Maybe some one has him on the guessinglist, too," laughed Benson
The night watchman came forward out of a shadow.
"Boss wants to see you young gentlemen," announced the watchman.
So Jack and Hal turned in there. As they entered the office a scene of "solid comfort" met their eyes. Shipbuilder and naval officer were lounging in easy chairs, smoking Havanas until the air was thick and white with the smoke.
"Sailing orders, Jack," announced Farnum.
"All right, sir," nodded the young skipper, looking at his watch. "I can pull out inside of twelve minutes."
"But you don't have to," laughed Farnum. "You have until morning.Where do you suppose you're going?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Curious, Jack?"
"I don't care where we're going," Benson smiled back. "When it's a matter of business all parts of the earth look alike to me."
Lieutenant Danvers laughed heartily.
"Benson, lad," exclaimed the naval officer, "you've got the real make-up to serve in the Navy. It's a pity we had to lose you."
"Don't be too sure yet, sir, that the Navy has escaped having me," smiled back Skipper Jack.
"You don't start until eight in the morning," went on the shipbuilder."Pollard got back this evening, and he goes with us. We take both the'Benson' and the 'Hastings.' Eph will have to command one of the boats,I suppose?"
"Yes, sir; and he'll have to be notified at once, too," replied the young submarine commander.
"He's on one of the craft now," replied Mr. Farnum. "Lieutenant Danvers goes with us, but he's a guest, only, and will not have to help in handling the boats. His two men, Ewald and Biffens, will take steering turns. We've a four hundred and eighty mile sail before us, down to Groton Bay."
"I know of the place, sir," nodded Jack, without emotion or enthusiasm. But Jacob Farnum's next words all but lifted the submarine boys from their feet.
"Jack, my boy, and you, too, Hal, at Groton Bay you will have to make the very efforts of your lives. We're to go through an official test for the United States Government. We shall be in competition with five other types of submarine boats—the Rhinds, the Seawold, the Griffith, and the Blackson and Day. We shall have to meet—and I hope, vanquish—all the recognized types of submarine boats made in the United States."
"And we will beat them, too!" glowed Jack Benson, his eyes flashing and his fists clenching.
"By the way, Jack," continued Mr. Farnum, "I had two applications for work this afternoon, from men who appear to know all about gasoline marine engines. As we'll be shorthanded for such a long cruise, do you suppose it would be worth while to look these fellows over and make up our minds about them?"
"Great Dewey—no!" burst, vehemently, from the young submarine captain. "If we're going into the test of our lives—for our very lives, I might say—then we don't want aboard any strangers who show up looking for jobs at the last moment. No, sir; I won't have them aboard—that is, not if I go, too!"
"I guess that's sensible enough," nodded Mr. Farnum. "Well, get aboard, boys. Lieutenant Danvers will be out by ten o'clock. Don't lie awake to-night, thinking too hard of what's before you."
"Don't you expect us to, sir," smiled Captain Jack. "We need our sleep to-night, if we've got such work ahead of us. It's big, work, sir."
"Big enough," nodded Jacob Farnum. "If we come out of this big official test with all the points of the game, then Uncle Sam is likely to buy all the submarine boats we can make for a couple of years to come—and our fortunes will be made—yours, too, boys!"
This talk of the boys' fortunes being at stake was not a matter of idle words. Jack, Hal and Eph well understood that, if they came out successful, they would also be at least moderately well off. Messrs. Farnum and Pollard were not of the kind to be niggardly in giving rewards fairly won.
Groton Bay, as every student of geography knows, is a nearly landlocked, well sheltered body of water, some seven miles long and three wide. At the mouth of the Groton river stands Colfax, a city of more than thirty thousand inhabitants.
This was about all that the submarine boys knew of their destination, until they arrived in the bay on the afternoon of the day after they left, Dunhaven.
Their run down had been a continuous one. Jack had had Biffens to relieve him at the wheel, while Mr. Farnum had helped Hal in the engine room. Besides, Besides, Lieutenant Danvers had stood a few tricks at the wheel.
While Jack came in the "Benson," which carried the two remaining loaded torpedoes, Eph had handled the "Hastings," with Ewald as relief. Williamson had handled the engines of the latter boat. David Pollard standing relief engine room watch.
The work had been hard and confining. It was a relief to all hands when they found themselves heading into Groton Bay.
Not far from the city water front lay two United States gunboats, the "Chelsea" and the "Oakland." Near the gunboats a fleet of seven other submarine craft lay at moorings.
"We're not the only crowd, then," mused Jacob Farnum, "that has seen fit to enter more than one boat. I shall have to get busy in the hunt for information."
"I'm not much worried about the triumph of the Pollard boats over competitors," declared Danvers, generously. "And, if anything can win for you, Mr. Farnum, it's the having of such enthusiasts as your submarine boys to handle your boats in the official tests."
"Oh, I can depend upon my boys," replied Jacob Farnum, quickly. "I know all about them."
Yet, as the shipbuilder gazed from the conning tower at the rival submarines actual drops of cold sweat oozed out on his forehead. Success meant so much to this shipbuilder, who had all his capital, to the last penny, invested in this submarine game.
"The worst of it is, we've got to keep on the lookout for dirty tricks!" groaned the shipbuilder, to himself. "We are willing to play fair to the last gasp. No doubt some of the other competing submarine builders feel the same way about it. Yet, with so many rivals in the field, there are sure to be one or two rascally fellows who won't consider any trick too low to give them an advantage."
Though Mr. Farnum had no particular rival, or rivals, in mind, his fears, as was afterwards proven, were only too well founded.
"Take the wheel, please, Mr. Farnum," Jack, begged. He ran down the steps to call:
"On deck, Biffens!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" replied the sailor, scrambling to obey.
Jack was out on the platform deck, megaphone in hand, by the time that his employer ran up rather close to the "Chelsea."
"Will you direct us to our moorings, sir?" Jack shouted to the watch officer aboard the gunboat.
"Proceed slowly east. Our launch will follow and show you your moorings," came the reply. Then the launch glided around the stern of the gunboat, leading the way.
Ten minutes later the "Benson" and the "Hastings" were moored, at the extreme eastern end of the line of submarine craft.
Then Hal, mopping his face from the engine room heat, came up on deck for a breath of air.
"I don't suppose we can get ashore," murmured young Hastings, gazing wistfully at the city beyond.
"No," muttered Jack, shaking his head. "We're short-handed as it is, and we've got to be on hand to watch these boats. There are too many of the enemy about, in the shape of rival builders and their employees, and among them there may be some mean tricksters who'd do anything in their power to put the Pollard boats out of the running in the tests to come. No; I reckon we won't see much of the shore, except from our decks, though it is mighty cramped and confining on one of these small craft."
Hal took a couple of turns up and down the deck. No one, until he has tried it, can realize how cramped such small craft are when one has to remain any length of time aboard.
Suddenly Hal paused, pointing landward.
"Great Scott!" he gasped. "Look who's here!"
A roomy whaleboat was approaching them. In it, as passengers, satGrant Andrews, foreman, and five workmen from the home yard.
"What can have happened?" wondered Captain Jack, as he and his chum waved their hands in greeting; then stood staring.
"Surprised, eh, lads?" laughingly demanded Jacob Farnum, who had stolen up behind them.
"Yes; what's wrong?" asked Jack.
"Nothing," replied the shipbuilder.
"Then what are Andrews and the other men doing here?"
"Do you notice," hinted Mr. Farnum, "that the men with Andrews are all picked from among our older, trusted shipyard men."
"Yes, sir. That's true."
"Well, in the first place," pursued Farnum, "if any sudden repairs, fixings or other work are required in a hurry, while we're here, we have a fine lot of our own men to attend to it. Before leaving I told Grant to bring these men with him. Then they'll serve another purpose. I want you youngsters to be keyed up to your best performances all the time we're here. That you can't do if you're kept confined closely aboard until your very souls ache. So, as much of the time as is wise, you young fellows will be ashore, stretching your legs, and Grant Andrews and his men will be on board as guards."
"That's great!" glowed Jack. "And mighty considerate of you, too, sir."
"Considerate? Not a bit of it!" retorted Jacob Farnum, half indignantly. "Jack Benson, I want to drain the last bit of performance out of you youngsters that I possibly can while we're here. That's why I am going to take some good care of you, also. Right this way, Grant!"
The hail was directed at the foreman. The whaleboat put in alongside of the "Benson," and the foreman with two of his men came aboard.
"And now, everyone else over the side to go ashore!" called the shipbuilder.
This order was quickly obeyed. Then the whaleboat continued on over to the "Hastings," where Eph and his companions were taken off and the remaining three workmen from the home yard left aboard as guards.
Mr. Farnum had already ascertained that the naval board which was to be in charge of the tests was quartered at the leading hotel on shore. Hence, in landing, the shipbuilder was really killing two birds with a single stone, as he intended to report at once to the head of the board for whatever instructions the latter had to give.
"We may as well go up, to the hotel in style," announced Mr. Farnum, when the entire party, the naval lieutenant included, had landed at the wharf. The two sailors, Ewald and Biffens, had already gone away to places of their own choosing.
There were three or four automobiles for hire near the wharf. Two of these Mr. Farnum engaged for his own party. In five minutes more they stood about in the handsome lobby of the Somerset House while their host registered for the party.
Jack, Hal and Eph stood at ease, some distance from the men of the party. Despite their easy attitudes there was yet a certain military erectness about them which was heightened by the handsome, natty uniforms that they wore.
At the further end of the hotel lobby was a doorway before which stood a folding screen. Past that was a clump of potted palms.
Behind the palms stood a man who, once seen, was not likely to be forgotten. He was not a handsome man. About fifty years of age, he was unusually stout; and, though his clothing was of expensive texture, it fitted him badly. On his upper lip was a heavy moustache, now iron-gray. His face was red, almost bloated. There were heavy pouches under his eyes that told of many hours of senseless, vicious dissipation. A small wart on the left side of the man's nose emphasized his lack of good looks. Though the face was large, the eyes were small, beady, and often full of cunning. There was some iron-gray hair at each side of the head; the top was bald.
This man was John C. Rhinds, head of the Rhinds Submarine Company. Three of the boats now at anchor in Groton Bay were his—or, rather, his company's, though John Rhinds owned nearly all of the stock in the company.
So far, Rhinds had not succeeded in selling a submarine craft to the Navy Department. Twice he had been on the point of a sale, but each time the government had decided upon a Pollard boat, instead.
John C. Rhinds loved money. He was resolved, at any cost, to make the government buy several of his boats. And he was utterly unscrupulous.
As he stood behind the palms, looking toward the group of new arrivals, Rhinds's little eyes seemed to grow smaller. He knew the members of this party, though none of them as yet knew Rhinds. But the cunning man had made it his business to find out all about the people whom he hoped to beat in the coming game.
"Here you are, Radwin!"
Mr. Rhinds almost hissed the summons, calling to his side a man of some thirty years of age, tall, dark, handsome, slender and wearing his fine clothes with an air of distinction.
At first glance one would be inclined to like the appearance of FredRadwin. A closer study of the somewhat shifty eyes and general recklessexpression might have turned one skilled in human nature against Mr.Fred Radwin, who was secretary to the Rhinds Company.
"That's the crowd, right over there, that have sold two boats under our noses to the Navy Department," continued Rhinds, a snarl framing about his thick, ugly lips. "That's the crowd we've got to beat."
"Then those young chaps must be the three young submarine officers with such fine records," remarked Fred Radwin, in an undertone.
"They are," nodded Rhinds, slowly. "They're bright youngsters, too. I wish we had them on our side."
"Couldn't they be lured over into our employ, then?" asked Radwin.
"You don't know the youngsters. They're full of fool notions about loyalty to the Farnum Pollard crowd. And, besides, the boys have an interest in the rival company."
"Couldn't we offer the boys a bigger interest with us?" suggested Radwin, as he peered through the palms at the other submarine group.
"No!" retorted Rhinds, sharply. "I know about that crowd. You don't.Listen to me."
"I'm listening," said Fred Radwin.
"We've got to make the acquaintance of that whole crowd, Fred. We've got to get personally acquainted with them all. That will be easy enough, I think. Then we've got to lay our plans. The Pollard boats must have no show whatever in the coming tests, do you understand? Their craft must balk, or behave badly. We must destroy all naval confidence in Pollard boats. Then we must engineer matters so that none of that crowd will be fit to find out what ails their boats—in time, anyway. The easiest point of attack will be the boys themselves. It is absolutely necessary to get them out of the game some way or other—I don't care what! Radwin, you're fertile enough in ideas, and reckless enough in deeds. This is to be your task—put the Pollard boats and those submarine boys wholly out of the running! First of all, we'll get acquainted with them. Come along!"
The Farnum party were just turning away, to follow a bell-boy to the rooms assigned to them upstairs, when John C. Rhinds, his face beaming craftily, approached them, followed by Radwin. Rhinds introduced himself to Farnum, then presented Radwin as secretary to the Rhinds Company.
"We're rivals in a way, of course," declared Mr. Rhinds. "But we want to be good-natured, friendly rivals, my dear Farnum. We hope to see a good deal of you all while here."
Jacob Farnum replied with equal cordiality. When it came Jack Benson's turn to be introduced, Rhinds seized him by the hand, patting his shoulder.
"Captain Benson?" he repeated. "The brainiest young man in America—with two chums who run him a close race. We must all dine together to-night," purred this Judas of the submarine boat world.
"I don't know when I've enjoyed myself as much," exclaimed Rhinds, looking round beamingly over the dinner party in one corner of the dining room.
Lieutenant Danvers was not there, having pleaded another engagement. But Rhinds and his lieutenant, Radwin, Messrs. Farnum and Pollard and all three of the submarine boys were around the big table. Radwin had succeeded in seating himself between Jack and Hal.
The dinner had been a fine one. Only one hitch had occurred; that was when Mr. Rhinds, at the beginning of the meal, had tried to order several bottles of wine.
"Just a moment, Mr. Rhinds," Farnum broke in. "None of the wine for us, thank you."
"Oh, then, some lighter kind of wine," proposed Mr. Rhinds, anxiously."Something good, in which we can all pledge one another."
"None of that stuff, according to our way of thinking, is any good," replied Farnum, with a good-natured smile.
"Well, perhaps not for the boys," conceded the host of this dinner. "But for the rest of us, as business men ready to cement a friendship."
"Alcohol isn't cement," replied Mr. Farnum, mildly. "At least, not with our party. The time was, I admit, Mr. Rhinds, when business men often tried to cement a business friendship with wine or liquor. But those times have gone by. Drinking is out of date, nowadays. The keenest and most dependable business men are those who do not drink. In fact, I may go a little further, and say that, in our business at Dunhaven, we have come to the point where we no longer have any dealings with business men whom we know to drink. You will understand, of course, that this is said without criticism of whatever views you yourself may entertain."
"Oh, well, then," grunted Rhinds, much taken back by the fairly spoken words of his rival. "I dare say there was too much drinking in the old days. Yes, Farnum, I am much inclined to agree with you, and we will do without the wine."
None the less, it was plain that their host was much annoyed.
"I want to get at the members of the naval board," declared Mr. Farnum, toward the end of the meal. "I want to find out what is planned in the tests that are to take place here."
"The members of the board," replied Mr. Rhinds, "are the three men, in citizen dress, who are at the sixth table down from here. They came into their dinner about ten minutes ago. As to to-morrow, I can tell you that, beginning at eleven o'clock, all the submarine boats entered are to take a straight, out-to-sea speed sail for six hours. The gunboat, 'Chelsea' will start the fleet, and the 'Oakland' will go along with the racers."
"That's short time for us," muttered Mr. Farnum, uneasily.
"Luckily, sir, we're ready, at a single moment's notice," interposedCaptain Jack Benson.
"As soon as we get through," proposed Mr. Rhinds, easily, "I'll take you over and present you to Captain Magowan and his associates on the board."
"That is kind of you," nodded Mr. Farnum, gratefully.
Accordingly, a few minutes later, Mr. Rhinds arose, sauntering, cigar in mouth, over to the table of the officers of the naval board. He spoke with them a few moments, then returned.
"Mr. Farnum, and Mr Pollard," announced Rhinds, "Captain Magowan and his associates invite you to come over and sit at their table. Radwin, will you look after our young friends? See whether you can show them any courtesies."
A highly significant look passed between the portly rascal and his secretary. None of the Farnum party, however, noted it.
"Well, what shall we do, boys?" inquired Radwin, genially, as, the four sauntered down the lobby toward the hotel entrance.
"I reckon taking things easily and restfully will suit us as well as anything," smiled Jack. "That is, unless you have some plan you particularly wish to suggest."
"Well," continued Radwin, thoughtfully, "the town is rather full of sailors, just at present, and they're making the nights lively in some sections. Do you care to go around with me, and see what the sailors are doing to drive dull care away?"
"Well, that is a question," said Jack Benson quickly. "We're boys, you know!"
"Sensible young fellows," cried Fred Radwin, in a tone so full of approval as to disarm all suspicion. "Then, for a while, what do you say if we take window seats here near the entrance, and note whatever may be passing on the street? By that time your employers may be through with the board members and come out."
"Why not go outside in the air, and walk up and down the block?" suggested Jack.
"Excellent!" agreed Radwin, readily. He accompanied them outside, though, a few moments later, he excused himself, saying that he had to go to the nearest drugstore to write a short letter and post it.
"What do you think of Radwin?" Hal asked.
"Why, I guess he's a good deal the sort of fellow that Rhinds wants,"Captain Jack answered, slowly.
"Don't you like Rhinds?" demanded Eph.
"Now, would it be just right to say that?" asked Jack, slowly. "Mr.Rhinds has tried to be very pleasant to us to-night. So has Mr. Radwin.Probably they're both good fellows, in their own way. Only—"
"Well?" insisted Hal.
"Why, to tell the truth," confessed Captain Benson, "Rhinds impresses me as being just a bit coarse, and Radwin a little too smooth and slick. To put it another way, they're not just our kind of people. That is, they're not at all in the same class with gentlemen like Jake Farnum and Dave Pollard. Now, that's every word I'm going to say against Rhinds or Radwin, for they've certainly been agreeable to us to-night."
Chatting thus, as they strolled slowly back and forth, none of the submarine boys noted how long Radwin was gone. As a matter of fact, that enterprising, rapidly-moving young man was away for nearly half an hour—and he was tremendously busy on their account.
The Somerset stood on one of the older, quieter streets of Colfax. At this time of the night there were not many passers.
"Here comes Radwin," discovered Hal, at last. "I had almost forgotten that he was coming back to us."
"I thought he had forgotten," laughed Jack.
Then all three turned to greet Mr. Radwin.
"How's this?" he asked. "Haven't Mr. Rhinds and your friends come out yet?"
"They must be talking, yet, with the officers of the naval board," suggested Eph Somers.
"They're sure to be out presently," nodded Radwin, after he had walked the submarine boys to the next corner. "At least, Mr. Rhinds is, for he always takes a walk in the evening, after dinner. Now, I've discovered the place where they serve the finest hot soda—chocolate, at that. I wanted to invite all hands there. But I'm afraid Rhinds and your employers may come out and be looking for us. Benson, do you feel like remaining here, to guide them along, while I take your comrades up to the place? You can tell the older men where we are, and then Mr Rhinds will bring you all around. He knows the place. Come along, Somers and Hastings. Benson, bring the older ones as soon as you see them come out of the hotel."
"Why, say, Jack, you go along now," urged Eph. "You know I don't care much about chocolate, and you do. So run along. I'll stay right here until I see our people."
"Good boy, Eph!" murmured Jack, gratefully. "You know my weakness for hot chocolate. I feel as if I could punish four or five of 'em right now."
As he turned away with Jack and Hal, Mr. Radwin looked rather disappointed. In fact, he was exceedingly disappointed, for he had hoped to leave Captain Jack Benson at this corner on the block below the hotel.
The street was practically deserted there. Yet barely two minutes had passed when, about a block away, in the opposite direction from that of the hotel, Eph heard a quick little feminine scream.
Wheeling about, Somers saw something that aroused his blood.
A girl, or young woman, he could not tell which, at the distance, cowered back from a short, thick-set young man who had raised his hand to strike her.
The next instant Eph saw the blow fall. Again the young woman cried out, though not very loudly. But the brute seemed on the point of once more striking her.
"Wow!" sputtered Eph, angrily. "We'll see about that."
On the run Somers went down the short block. The bully, hearing him come, turned for a look, then darted away down the side street.
"I—I beg your pardon," stammered Eph, as the young woman turned, flashing a look at him through a thin veil. "I—I don't want to interfere, but—"
"I'm very glad you did, sir," responded the young woman, in a voice whose sweetness charmed the submarine boy. "That wretch—"
"I wonder if I can overtake him and thrash him," pondered Eph, glancing down the side street. The bully had disappeared.
"Oh, don't think of that," begged the girl, in a quick, anxious way. "I don't want to set people's tongues to wagging."
"No; of course not," Eph assented, quickly.
"But, if you will escort me safe home—"
"Gladly, miss," nodded young Somers, again lifting his cap.
"Oh, that will be so kind of you," she murmured. "For I am afraid Tom might be waiting for me, on the way to my home—"
"If he gets within hailing distance," uttered Eph, valiantly, "I'll plant a torpedo fist under him!"
"Will you let me take your arm?" begged the girl; for, from her voice and her slight, trim she appeared to be no more. That she was indeed afraid was testified to by the way in which her hand trembled on his arm. It was such a tender little hand, too! Eph was not a flirt. He did not give much thought to girls, as a rule, but he wasn't going to see one struck by a street bully.
So he walked along, down the side street, turning, also, at two or three other corners, talking cheerily to make the girl forget her late fright. Her face Eph couldn't see very well, on account of the veil, but he decided that the young woman possessed beautiful, flashing eyes, as he caught their expression dimly through the veil.
Down another quiet side street they were passing, when they came to the head of an alley-way. Just as they reached it the girl let go of Eph's arm, uttering a little scream as she darted away. Eph didn't follow her. He found himself face to face with the thick set young man, Tom. Just of that worthy were two other sturdy-looking young hoodlums.
"Now, you an' me have got something to settle, younker," glared Tom.
"All right," retorted Eph, undauntedly. "But fair play—one at a time."
Eph's fists were up, and he sailed in, fighting manfully, sailor-fashion. Then the other two closed in behind young Somers. He was struck on the back of the head, and darkness came over him and he fell insensible to the ground.
When luckless Eph came to his senses he found himself lying, bound hand and foot, on a pile of rags. The darkness around him was complete.
"Well, this is a puzzle to unravel!" muttered the astounded submarine boy.
Yet, think and ponder as he would, it never occurred to him to see, in his misfortune, the guiding hand of Fred Radwin!
At the hot soda place even Jack Benson, fond as he was of such decoctions, at last had his fill.
"Funny Eph hasn't brought the others here," muttered Jack.
"Pardon me, a moment," urged Radwin, rising. "I'll be back directly."
Radwin slipped out to the sidewalk, for he had seen a hovering figure at the curb. However, Radwin kept on down the street, turning in at the third doorway beyond. Now, the hovering figure sauntered past.
"We got the cub," whispered the prowler.
"Good!" whispered Radwin. "Then you're ready for the rest?"
"Huh! It'll be like sleeping on a haymow, if the other two are as easy as that one was."
"All right, then! Be off, and see that you do your work well!"
With that Radwin walked briskly back and into the hot soda place.
"I'm ashamed to tell you what took me out," he laughed, easily. "Boys, after writing that letter in the drug-store, I forgot to mail it, and just felt it in my coat pocket. Well, it's safe in the mail-box, at last."
"We were just saying," Hal announced, "that it's funny the others haven't come along. We better go back and get Eph, anyway?"
"It will be a good idea," nodded Radwin.
Of course, when they reached the corner at which they had left youngSomers, he was not there.
"I wonder if he has gone back and joined the party at the hotel?" queried Hal.
"We can soon find out," declared Jack.
"Suppose you and I walk down there, then, Hastings?" suggested Radwin. "We can leave Benson here, to tell Somers where we are, if he comes back this way."
"You wait here, Hal," suggested Jack. "There's a little matter I want to speak to Mr. Farnum about, anyway."
So Hastings was left at the corner. He saw Jack and the Rhinds man go in through the hotel entrance.
Then, hearing steps, Hal turned to see two sailors approaching. They wore the uniform of the United States Navy. Hastings regarded them with the friendly interest that he, like most other Americans, always felt for sailors. But the two sailors came along, talking earnestly, and did not appear to see young Hastings, who stood in close to the wall.
"When I first seen him fall," one of the sailors was saying, "I mistook him for a Navy officer. He was pretty young, but the uniform fooled me."
"He had the uniform, all right but no signs of rank on it," nodded the other sailor, thoughtfully. "Was he much hurt?"
"Oh, it won't kill him," replied the first sailor. "But—"
"I beg your pardon," interposed Hal, springing in front of the pair."It has just struck me that you are speaking of a comrade of mine."
"Well, he had a uniform on, just like your'n, replied the first sailor, looking Hal Hastings over quickly.
"Only the young feller we're talkin' about has red hair," added the second.
"What has happened to him?" demanded Hal, a feeling of alarm sweeping over him.
"Oh, he got in a little fight—that's all," responded the first sailor. "Bit off a little bit bigger chunk of fight than he could handle. He's kinder dazed and silly, now, and talkin' about queer things. Half an hour more, though, messmate, and I guess he'll be able to walk down to the water front all right."
Eph knocked out and dazed—among strangers! That was the sole picture that appeared to Hal Hastings's mind at that moment.
"He's a friend of mine—messmate, at that," Hal declared, quickly. "Where is the place? Or, better still, can you take me to it? I'll reward you."
"Oh, stow the reward, messmate," replied one of the sailors. "We fellers that foller seafighting for a trade have got to stand in together once in a while. When I seen your friend knocked down I jumped in and floored the big rough that hurt your messmate. We'd have brought your friend along, but we didn't know just where to take him."
It was hard for Hal to believe that clear-eyed, level-headed Eph Somers would go into any of the low drinking resorts of the town; but he thought it best not to ask any questions until he found young Somers.
After some two minutes of brisk walking the two sailors turned down into an alleyway.
"The place we're going to is dark on the ground floor," stated one of them. "Don't be afraid to go up a dark stairway, messmate. We'll be with you, anyway."
"I don't believe I'm afraid, thank you," smiled Hal.
One of the sailors, stepping ahead, pushed door open, going in first.Hal followed, the other sailor bringing up the rear.
Then, like a flash, Hal Hastings felt him self seized on that dark stairway, and a big hand held over his mouth.
Like a tiger Hal fought for a few moments. As nearly as he could judge, in the dark, he had four assailants. He was overborne, at last gagged and tied.
In the meantime Jack and Mr. Radwin had gone to the hotel dining room, to find that the last diners had departed, leaving only a few waiters who were arranging tables.
"No one here," murmured Radwin "Then we'll look through the billiard room, writing room and other places. Young Somers must be with the party somewhere."
Twenty minutes or more they spent in looking through the various public parts of the big hotel. Then they returned to the lobby. Radwin was limping, now, and looked uncomfortable.
"What's the matter?" questioned Jack.
"A nail in my shoe hurts me," lied the other, glibly, sinking into a chair. "Benson, I reckon I'll sit here a few minutes. Then I'll get to my room and call a bell-boy, to see if he can find some one to fix the shoe."
"Too bad," murmured Jack. "But say, I'll go back to the corner, and tell Hal, so he won't be standing on the corner all night."
With that Jack Benson walked briskly out. Up at the next corner, however, instead of finding Hal, the young skipper was accosted by two sailors in United States naval uniform.
"I reckon your name's Benson, messmate?" hailed one of the pair.
"I reckon it is," nodded Jack, looking sharply at them.
"Got a bit of bad news for you, then," added the first speaker. "It ain't so awful bad, though. One of your friends—Winter, I think his name was—"
"No; Somers," corrected the other sailor.
"Well, he saw a row going on, and he had to run down the street and get into it. Too many fellers in the fight, and Winter—"
"Somers," interposed the second sailor.
"Yes; that was it. Somers got pretty badly used up. His scalp was cut some considerable. He was taken into a house nearby, and a doctor called in to stitch him up. Somers sent us to find his messmates. We found your friend, Hastings, and took him around there. Hastings wanted us to find you, and bring you there, messmate."
"Poor old Eph!" muttered Jack. "Tough luck, and at a bad time for us."
"We'll take you 'round to where your messmates are," volunteered the sailor. "Hastings was particular that you come at once."
"I'll get a carriage to bring Mr. Somers home in," Jack suggested.
"Oh, your messmate, Hastings, has sent a feller for a carriage," broke in the first sailor, hastily.
"Good enough," Jack nodded. "Then say, boys, I'll just run back to the hotel. I left Radwin in there. I'll be right back with you. You'll wait for me, surely, won't you?"
"Oh, sure!" chorused both sailors. Then, as Jack Benson scurried down the street, the two supposed sailors turned to each other, chuckling softly.
"Sure we'll waits" repeated one of the pair.
It was several minutes ere Jack returned, coming up almost breathlessly.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, boys," he spoke, hastily. "But I'm here at last."
"Oh, that's all right, messmate. Come along and we'll pilot you straight to your friend, Winter—"
"Somers," corrected the other sailor.
Between the pair, some two minutes later, Jack Benson turned off a side street into an alleyway. The houses down in this alley were dark. Most of the little buildings here were occupied only in the daytime, as junk shops and old rag stores.
"Don't mind the dark," spoke one of the sailors, as he pushed open a door. "There's light enough on the second floor. That's where you'll find your friend, Winter."
"Somers," remonstrated the second sailor.
On the dark stairway Jack Benson found himself suddenly attacked, not only by the sailor pair, but by at least two other men, as well.
"Oh, you—" Jack shot out, hoarsely, he felt himself borne under by crushing weight.
"Go easy, messmate, and you'll sleep more peaceful to-night!" chuckled one of the sailors, holding a big hand over the submarine boy's mouth, while another unseen assailant pinned Jack's hands at the wrists.
Flare! A sudden glow of light illumined the dark hallway. Then more light.
"Jerusby!" howled one of the sailor pair, leaping to his feet.
Instantly there was consternation among all the assailants.
In the excitement, young Benson was forgotten. Freed from assault, he leaped to his feet.
The flare of light had come from two bull's-eye police lanterns, held in the open doorway below.
"There are the scoundrels, men! Grab them!" shouted a voice of authority.
The speaker and two other men were in police uniforms. Four other men there were in ordinary civilian garb.
In the excitement Jack Benson let his fist fly, knocking one of the sailors headlong down the stairs. But the submarine boy did not pause there. His other fist, landed on the second sailor, sending him after the first.
"Club their heads off, if any of 'em put up a fight," commanded the police officer in charge.
Two other men, not in sailors' uniform cowered on the stairs, close to the young submarine captain. There was no fight, beyond the blows that young Benson struck. Cowed by the unexpected appearance of the law's force, the quartette of rascals surrendered. There was a clicking of handcuffs.
"Your chief thought I was crazy, or telling him fairy stories over the telephone," laughed Captain Jack Benson. "Now, I guess—"
"I am the Chief of police," retorted the officer in authority. "I thought that, if anything such as you described were happening in Colfax, then I'd better come along myself to investigate. But now, perhaps you can explain more than you did over the 'phone from the Somerset House?"
"I have the best of reasons," Jack replied, "for imagining that two of my friends have disappeared by the same trick that was tried on me. If that is so, I'm mighty anxious to find them as soon as possible."
"Do any of you scoundrels know where this young gentleman's friends are?" demanded the chief, turning to glare at his prisoners, lined up along the wall in the lower hallway. "The man that talks quickly now may get off easier than the rest, later on."
"There's two boys bound and gagged in the sub-cellar of this place," spoke one of the two prisoners not in uniform.
"Good enough," nodded the chief of police, looking at the informant. "Officer Davis, you come with me. You may come, too, Mr. Benson. The rest of you wait where you are."
The door to the cellar was locked, but the police chief, with a skeleton key, soon had the lock forced. Passing down into the cellar, their way lighted by one of the bull's-eye lanterns, they found a trap opening upon a stairway down into the sub-cellar below.
Here they came upon Hal and Eph, both securely bound and gagged, and lying on piles of old rags. It was not long ere the two submarine boys were free and on their feet, wholly overjoyed.
"Great Scott! How did you ever find us here?" quivered Eph Somers.
"I'll tell you when we get away from here," smiled Skipper Jack.
Up the stairs they went. One of the police party, in the meantime, had gone out to telephone for a covered police van. Into this the four prisoners were hustled and locked securely in.
Those of the police party who did not go with the van soon vanished, all, save Chief Ward.
"Now, Captain Benson," muttered the chief of police, "I want to congratulate you on your clever wit and sound judgment. I also want to thank you for enabling me to run down a gang like that. I fully understand that in the morning, you have to be away on a very important submarine test, and that it would be wholly inconvenient for you to have to appear in court. So I won't expect you. On the testimony that my men and I can give the judge will continue the case until such time as you can appear. My men already understand that none of the prisoners are to be allowed to communicate with outside friends to-night or to-morrow morning. So you may be sure that no news of their arrest will leak out. And now, good-night, boys. Congratulations, again, and thanks!"
Nor were Jack Benson and his friends long in vanishing, either. They did not go back at all by the way of the Somerset House. They went down to the water-front by a different route. Yet they were fortunate enough to find a shore boat that put them out on board the "Benson."
"And now, Jack, old fellow," exploded Eph, as they sat in the snug security of their little cabin, "don't you dare think of anything else until you tell us how you brought a seeming miracle about."
"Oh, that was easy," laughed Jack Benson, gleefully. "In the first place, it was mighty queer, Eph, that we left you on that corner—and you vanished. Then we left Hal on that same corner—and the earth swallowed him up. Then two fake sailors stopped me at that very same corner—"
"How did you know they were fake sailors?" broke in Hal. "I never suspected their genuineness."
"Why, see here," glowed Jack, "a United States Man-of-warsman has respect for an officer's uniform drilled into him twenty-four hours in the day. We're not officers of the Navy, but we wear a uniform that is very much like the uniform of a naval officer, all but the insignia of rank. What is the consequence? Every sailor we meet sees the uniform, and says 'sir' to us by sheer force of habit. Why, you both know that a good many sailors who pass us give us the regular salute. Yet these two fake sailors hailed me as 'messmate' and were as familiar in every other way as they knew how to be."
"Gracious! When they spoke to me, I never thought of that little point," confessed Hal.
"So I told the pretended sailors," continued Captain Jack, "that I'd run down to the hotel, and that I'd be right back."
"Did you tell anyone where you were going?" demanded Eph.
"No one was there that I knew. Instead, I slipped into the telephone room, at the side of the lobby, and called up the chief of police. I happened to get the chief himself on the wire. He thought I was a drunken sailor, or else that I was out of my head. But he finally agreed to have some detectives on hand to see the sailors take me away in tow."
"Then—?" pursued Eph.
"Why, then I waited long enough to give the detectives a chance to reach the scene. Then I went back and walked into the trap with the fake sailors."
It was a story that was hugely enjoyed by the young submarine captain's comrades.
"But who would put up such a queer job on us?" demanded Hal.
"It must be some one who didn't want us to man a Pollard boat in to-morrow's speed test, of course," nodded Jack. "It seems like a mean thing to say, and we ought to be sure, but I believe Rhinds and Radwin are the offenders."
The more the submarine boys talked it over, the more they were inclined to fall in line with the guess that Rhinds and Radwin had been behind their troubles.
"Some one has got to suffer for this business, before we get through!" cried Captain Jack, his eyes flashing ominously. "But come, now, fellows, we must go to bed, for we must have enough sleep if we're to be good and fit in to morrow's race."
It was rather late, that evening when Messrs. Farnum and Pollard, still with John C. Rhinds, returned to the Somerset House.
"I don't see our youngsters about, anywhere," muttered Jacob Farnum. "But their room keys are gone from the clerk's rack, so I guess they've turned in, like sensible fellows."
They did not know that Radwin himself had secretly removed the keys in order to create the impression that the boys were in bed.
Rhinds and Radwin talked in whispers, behind the locked door of another room. They chuckled a long while, then shook hands and went to bed.
The boys, however, as we know, were safely aboard the submarine.
Mr. Farnum had left a call for eight o'clock in the morning. It was about twenty minutes later that Farnum and Pollard knocked loudly on the door of the room occupied by Rhinds.
"Well?" demanded Mr. Rhinds, opening the door, and appearing, minus coat and vest. "Ah, good morning, gentlemen. Going down to breakfast? I'll be ready in a few moments."
"Breakfast—nothing!" retorted Jacob Farnum, sharply. "Our young men are missing. We went to their rooms this morning, and could get no answer. We've had their doors opened with pass-keys—our three young submarine officers haven't been in their beds all night long!"
John C. Rhinds allowed his face to express more surprise than concern over this news.
"Oh, well," he remarked, "boys will be boys, you know—especially when they're sailors."
"Our boys are not that sort," retorted Mr. Farnum, sharply. "They are not hoodlums or racketers."
"Then of course you'll find 'em safe on one of your boats," proposed Mr. Rhinds, innocently. "Just two minutes, and I'll go down to breakfast with you."
Radwin, too, joined them. He also expressed surprise, artfully. All four went to the breakfast room together. Messrs. Farnum and Pollard ate well enough, though they seemed badly worried.
"There's just one thing about it, of course," sighed Jacob Farnum, as the party left the table. "If our youngsters are not on one of our boats, then we've got to lose the speed race to-day. None of us can handle the boats the way they do."
"Oh, you'll find the boys all right on one of the boats," asserted FredRadwin, confidently.
The rivals went down to the water front together. It was well after nine o'clock when they entered a shore boat.
"We'll go out to your craft, first," proposed Mr. Rhinds, "You'll feel so much better, gentlemen, when you find your crew all right. I'll feel better, too, for I wouldn't want to beat you unfairly to-day."
Grant Andrews and two of his workmen stood on the platform deck of the "Benson," leaning against the conning tower, when the shore boat came within hail.
"I am afraid to call out to Grant, and ask him," faltered the shipbuilder.
"Then don't do it," returned Mr. Rhinds, sympathetically. "Just wait until we get alongside, and you'll see your young men popping out of the conning tower, rested and as bright as new buttons."
A moment later the shore boat rounded in alongside. Then, quite suddenly, the three submarine boys projected themselves through the manhole, and stood in full view on the platform deck.
"Eh? Hey?" gasped John C. Rhinds, utterly nonplussed.
Fred Radwin's lower jaw seemed to drop several inches. He stared as though he were seeing ghosts, while a sickly, greenish pallor crept into his handsome face.
"By Jove, you were right, Rhinds!" gasped Jacob Farnum, turning. "Thank you, old man, for keeping our courage up."
"Good morning, Mr. Farnum! Good Morning Mr. Pollard!" chorused the three submarine boys. Then, favoring Rhinds and Radwin with brief glances:
"Good morning—gentlemen!"
"Gentlemen?" repeated Eph, disgustedly, under his breath. "I think not!"
Though Rhinds and his agent speedily managed to look pleasant, they hadn't gotten their spirits back when the shore boat pulled away.
Farnum and Pollard went hurriedly below, where Jack and his comrades followed.
"Jack! Jack! Thank you a million times!" gasped Farnum, seizing the young captain's hand, then giving the other boys the same hearty gripping handshake. "Your note that we got, this morning, gave us the information we needed and we knew just how to act."
"And, from the way Rhinds and his fellow acted, when they caught sight of you boys," added David Pollard, "we can form a pretty good idea of who tried to shanghai you three last night."
"The scoundrels!" glowered Farnum, in righteous rage.
"Now, sir," cried Jack, laughing savagely, "why did those fellows try such a trick on us? Because they hoped, thereby, to beat us in the distance speed race to-day."
"Of course," nodded the shipbuilder, still savage. "Rhinds builds fast submarines. I know that, from the reports I've had. Plainly, the Pollard boats are the only craft he feels much afraid of."
"He'll be more than afraid, to-night," vaunted Jack Benson, proudly. "More than afraid, sir. When the figures of to-day's distance speed course are in John C. Rhinds will be frozen cold!"
"If we have to turn on gasoline and run the engines so hot we blow the whole deck off!" confirmed Hal Hastings, explosively.
"If I should be inclined to forget to-day," growled Eph Somers, "I have a pain in my head, from a crack I received last night, that will put me in mind of the whole outrage, and keep me strictly on the job of vengeance!"
"I guess you youngsters have the winning fire all right, for to-day," smiled Jacob Farnum, grimly.
"Are you going to enter both boats in to-day's race?" asked Jack, more thoughtfully.
"We can't," replied the shipbuilder. "Captain Magowan told me, last night, that, since the Rhinds people and ourselves are the only makers who have more than one boat here, today's race will be confined to one craft representative of each make. So, which boat do you prefer to take out to-day, Jack?"
"It doesn't make a bit of difference which one," returned young Captain Benson. "Between the 'Hastings' and the 'Benson' there isn't a hair's breadth to choose. But with either boat, sir, I believe that, to-day, we can run any Rhinds boat off the surface of the ocean!"
It was all very good to have such confidence in their boat. Yet was it to be justified?
* * * * * * * * * *
Almost immediately came the first blow. A telegram came on board, addressed to Williamson. The latter's brother was seriously ill at home, and the machinist had to leave at once, going north by the next train. As it happened, the brother speedily recovered, but this incident for the time left the Farnum forces the losers of a highly useful man in the engine room.