"Benson," remarked Danvers, approaching the submarine boy, "I guess your remark of a few minutes ago exactly defines this trip."
"What remark?" asked Jack.
"You spoke of it as a lightning cruise. It is going to be one, indeed, for these little submarine craft."
"Our boat can stand it, I think," smiled the submarine skipper.
"And so can the Rhinds boat, probably. But some of the others will find themselves sorely put to to keep up the speed for twenty-four hours."
"And, if they don't?" queried Jack.
Danvers shrugged his shoulders.
"Then I guess they'll have to be satisfied with being left far behind, unless they signal that they're in actual distress."
"This speed," mused Captain Jack, "must be part of the government's plans for another test. The Navy Department must have planned to see whether any of these boats could stand such a gait for twenty-four long hours."
"I couldn't tell you if I knew," remarked Lieutenant Danvers, with a quizzical look, then turned and strolled away.
"And I guess," muttered the submarine boy to himself, "that that's about as near as a fellow can go to giving a tip, once he has had the Navy muzzle padlocked to his jaws."
Some of the submarines in this long race—for such it was—were better equipped as to the number of the crew. The Rhinds had this advantage, carrying a captain and four men, in addition to Rhinds himself and his secretary. Yet Jack and Eph relieved each other regularly at the wheel, catching long naps between. Hal and Mr. Farnum did the same thing with the engine room, and the "Hastings" kept well in the van through the day, and also through the long night that followed.
Two hours after daylight the "Oakland" signaled to the submarines to run up close to this "parent vessel," the gunboat.
"Further orders, of course," muttered Jack, who was at the wheel at the time. "Well, we're not such a very long run, now, from the reported location of that derelict."
The fleet was wholly out of sight of land. The wind was fresh and the sea lively with short, choppy waves, crested by white-caps. Yet, for boats as staunch as these submarines, sea was not a difficult one for boat handling.
One after another, while still going at full speed, the submarines drew close to the "Oakland." One after another, as signaled, the boats put in within easy hailing distance of the gunboat.
"The 'Hastings' will keep to the same South West, by South course, but at a distance of two miles off this vessel's port bow," came the order. "The 'Thor' will take up similar position, two miles off the port side of the 'Hastings.'"
The three remaining torpedo boats were assigned to positions corresponding on the starboard side of the "Oakland."
In this order the boats went ahead at a speed reduced to fourteen miles. The front of the line extended over some ten miles; in reality the line of vision extended much further than that. Unless the semi-submerged derelict had moved much faster than such derelicts usually do, it was difficult to see how the wreck could get through this line of exploration.
Jack Benson pressed a signal that brought Hal Hastings up on deck.
"Rouse Eph and Mr. Farnum," ordered the young skipper. "We've got to have all hands on, now. And call Lieutenant Danvers, also. He's not allowed to help us, but he'll be anxious to see what is going on."
As soon as Eph Somers reached deck Jack Benson turned the wheel over to him. Then the young captain got his marine glasses, stationing himself, most of the time, beside the deck wheel.
"If it's in any way possible," muttered Jack, "I want to be the first to sight that derelict. I want the honor of sinking her to come to us. It will all be points in the game we are fighting for."
As Benson spoke he swung his glass around to cover the deck of the"Thor," that craft being, now, her full two miles away off the port beam.
"Rhinds has his whole crowd on deck, too," growled young Benson, using his powerful marine glass with interest. "Yes; everyone on deck, except two men for the engine room."
At this moment Lieutenant Danvers stepped on deck, looking as though he had slept well. The naval officer carried a glass very much like the submarine skipper's.
"It's almost mean of me to bring a glass on deck with me," laughedDanvers. "Under the rules I'm forbidden to give you any informationI may find for myself."
Jack nodded pleasantly, then turned to sweep the sea ahead. At a distance of a few miles it would be easy enough to miss the half-submerged derelict.
For some three hours the flotilla swept on, with active officers on every deck. The naval board had ordered this new formation ere reaching the probable location of the derelict.
"We haven't passed the thing, anyway," Jack muttered to Eph. "The sea isn't rough enough for that to be possible."
But now, Jack was again pacing the deck, while Eph, his eyes mostly on the compass, steered steadily by course.
Suddenly, Jack Benson started. Quickly he wiped the outer lenses of his glass, then looked again.
"See anything?" demanded Eph.
"Yes, sirree! And the 'Thor' is almost a mile nearer than we are! It's the derelict—not a doubt of it!"
Like a flash Jack sprang to the wheel, ringing the bell for full speed.
"Eph, hustle below! Tell Hal we've sighted the derelict. Tell him to hump the engines. Tell him I don't care how much we overheat the machinery so that we don't blow the craft up. Jump!"
Eph collided with Jacob Farnum, who had started up from below, but he brushed the shipbuilder aside, rushing below as though death pursued him.
The naval officer, too, had made out a bobbing something on the sea, ahead, over at port, which he took to be the long sought derelict.
The lieutenant could not say anything, but, with glass still at his eyes, he leaned back against the conning tower, drawing in his breath sharply.
"Want me to take the wheel?" called out Eph, as he reached deck again.
"Yes. I want to keep the glass to my eyes."
Just one look did Benson take at the supposed derelict. Then he swung his gaze around upon the "Thor."
"They've seen our speed-burst," cried the young submarine skipper. "I don't believe they had spotted the derelict, but now they see us shooting ahead, to cross their course, and that has told them the secret. Yes! There they go ahead, and pointing straight. They've caught up the old wreck—through our glasses!"
It was provoking, but the rival boat, besides being nearer at the start, had also started forward at greater speed.
"This is the 'Thor's' trick," thought Lieutenant Danvers to himself."Too bad, too. I'd like to have seen the boys take it."
Jacob Farnum's private view, not expressed, agreed with the naval officer's.
But Jack Benson? He simply couldn't admit any victory for the rival—not until it was actually won.
"Swing a half-point off port bow, Eph—steady, now!" breathed the young skipper, intensely.
Down below, Hal Hastings was performing as near to wonders as was possible with a gasoline engine. Jacob Farnum stood just inside the conning tower, prepared to rush below with any other orders.
"Yes, it's the derelict!" shouted Benson, presently. "I can make out the stumps of two masts now. We'll be there in a few minutes."
"We'll be lucky if we don't get there too late," grumbled Somers. "ShallI steer direct for the old wreck, or take the course from you?"
"Better take it from me for a time," Benson replied. "My glass will be more dependable than your naked eye."
The "Thor," also, was heading straight for the derelict. So far, theRhinds boat was still nearer.
It began to look, however, as if the "Thor's" engines were not quite as fast as those of the other Rhinds boat, the "Zelda."
"Are we going to make it?" breathed Eph, the perspiration of sheer strain standing out on his forehead.
"Yes!" almost barked Jack Benson.
"Sure thing, is it?" persisted Somers.
"Sure—only don't talk too much," growled young Benson.
It was the grit, the dogged determination of the born commander—the natural leader of men.
A moment later Jack turned a white face toward the shipbuilder.
"Mr. Farnum, tell Hal he'll have to pour the oil in faster. We've got to have more speed."
Farnum did not even wait for the second sentence. He dived below. All of a sudden the "Hastings" was seen to take a notable leap forward. Then she settled down to a more rapid, steady gait.
Just inside the conning tower Jacob Farnum stood again. In his right hand he clutched a doubled-up handkerchief, with which he made frequent dabs at his face.
The shipbuilder knew that the present speed, with its dangerous overheating of the engines, spelled blank disaster if continued for long.
Hal Hastings, down below, standing like a white wraith beside his engines, realized the same thing.
So, too, did Jack Benson, the young skipper, for whom, in this mad moment, there was but one word in the language—"win!"
Eph didn't stop to realize it. He was worrying about straight steering, and he couldn't worry about more than one thing at a time.
Lieutenant Danvers must have known what was patent to every other mind but he neither said nor did anything. He was a Navy officer, trained not to display emotion.
"Good!" came from Captain Jack's lips. Yet, in the intensity of his strain it was a groan, rather than a note of exultation. "We're cutting into the 'Thor's' water."
A few moments more, and Benson found his craft slantingly across theRhinds boat's course, well ahead.
"Now, we'll show you!" quavered Jack Benson, as he briefly shook his fist back at the wicked rivals.
"If we don't blow the lid off this sea-turtle!" muttered young Somers, to himself.
At the youthful captain's sharp order Eph swung the course around.
"Now, drive straight toward the derelict, Eph!" breathed the young commander, his eyes glittering. "I leave the deck in your hands for a minute. You're broadside on, now. Keep driving, steady, as you are!"
As Farnum saw young Benson dashing his way the shipbuilder understood and darted down the stairs.
After him plunged Jack Benson. Below, both became cooler, for the task in hand must not be bungled. On one of the trucks they dragged a torpedo forward, fitting it in the tube.
As he closed the after port behind the torpedo, Jack bent over to placeJacob Farnum's hand on the firing lever.
"Stand there, sir, till you've done it!" quavered Captain Jack.
"Will you signal the order?"
"No, sir! You'll get it by voice."
As Benson wheeled, dashing away, he had an instant's glimpse, sideways, of Hal Hastings's face. Great as Jack's haste was, that look at his chum's face haunted him.
There was no time for sentiment, now, though. It was literally do or die!
The "Thor" was now three hundred yards astern, making frantic efforts to lessen the distance, yet actually losing time.
Ahead, the derelict was now some fifteen hundred yards away. The half-sunken wreck still presented a broadside, as shown by the positions of two stumps of masts.
"What range are you going to fire at?" asked Eph Somers.
"The torpedo is set for six hundred yards; we'll fire at three hundred."
Captain Jack's voice was cooler, steadier, now. The first great strain had subsided. He was cool, tense, now—though not a whit less determined to win at all hazards.
As there was still some time to spare, and Eph could handle the "Hastings" as well as any other helmsman on earth, Jack stepped back to the conning tower.
Lieutenant Danvers was there, though with his gaze astern.
"I can just picture old Rhinds," laughed Captain Jack, a bit harshly. "He's saying hard things about us, for cutting in on his course and getting the derelict away from him."
Danvers laughed.
"The old fellow is swearing a blue streak, and threatening himself with an apoplectic stroke every instant."
"You don't seem to love Mr. Rhinds very noticeably," grimaced the naval officer.
"If I don't," voiced Jack, "neither do any of our crowd. And the reason is more than mere business rivalry, too."
Lieutenant Danvers knew nothing whatever of the dastardly attempts against the Pollard crowd that Rhinds and Radwin had engineered.
It was not a time, however, in which to waste precious moments looking back at the more tardy rival boat.
Jack wheeled, bracing himself against the conning tower. They were now within eight hundred yards of the derelict's broadside-on.
How the "Hastings" seemed to crawl over the last of the intervening water space! Yet Hal realized, if Jack did not, how swiftly the submarine was racing.
"Five hundred yards!" clicked Jack, and stepped inside the conning tower, snatching up a megaphone.
Four hundred and fifty—four hundred—three-fifty—three-twenty-five!"Fire!"
That last word was bellowed below through the megaphone. Jack, his eyes staring forward, saw something leap near the bow, and saw an upward dash of spray. The torpedo had left the tube.
"Hard-aport, Eph! Swing her right over. So!"
From his own post in the conning tower Benson signaled for slow speed, now. It would never do to stop the overheated engines utterly. Besides, seaway was needed, with the rival craft coming up behind.
His work in the conning tower done, Captain Jack sprang out on the platform deck, bounding beside Lieutenant Danvers at the starboard rail. Through the manhole opening of, the tower the shipbuilder soon thrust his uncovered head.
Was the torpedo, so carefully aimed, going to strike and do its work?
"Is it a hit, do you think?" gasped Jack.
"I think—" began the naval officer.
Boom! It came suddenly, sullenly. A column of spray shot up between the two mast-stumps of the derelict. The rising water reached a height of eighty or ninety feet, then came down again like a heavy rain.
But the wreck itself?
One of the mast-stumps tottered, then the other. In an instant more nothing of the derelict was to be seen, saving some floating wreckage made up of less water-logged wood.
"A fair hit, I'll wager my commission!" cried Danvers, eagerly.
"Yes," nodded Jacob Farnum. "That's the last of the derelict. She's removed from the paths of navigation."
There could be no doubt of the completeness of the work done by the torpedo from the "Hastings." A broad grin now appeared on the shipbuilder's lately white face.
"Mr. Farnum, will you tell Hal, whenever he thinks best, to slow down to mere headway?"
"Aye, aye, Captain," sang the shipbuilder, jovially, and disappeared from view.
"Benson, I congratulate you on your nerve," spoke Lieutenant Danvers, as he turned, his eyes glowing, to the youthful submarine commander.
"I don't know as I deserve that good word," muttered Jack, slowly, shaking his head. "It was win or die with us."
"I realize that."
"And I took a big chance of blowing our engines out."
"I thought so, at the time."
"Then, Lieutenant, you must realize that I risked your life, as well as ours."
"I knew it," nodded Danvers, coolly.
Then he rested a hand half affectionately on young Benson's nearer shoulder.
"My boy, what is risking a life or two, when there's such a prize to win—such a naval lesson to be learned and taught? American naval history is full of the names of officers and men who have thrown away their lives in learning something new for the benefit of the service."
"I like that way of putting it," replied Captain Jack, though he spoke soberly. "I had a notion I was pretty wicked when I took such chances."
"It would have been criminal, if it hadn't been your purpose to show what a craft of this type can do when pushed in emergencies. But I have learned much to-day that will stand me in great stead, should I ever be in command of a flotilla of submarines in war time."
"Then I suppose I ought to forgive myself for my recklessness," laughedJack.
"You want to forget it, Benson. The thing you want to remember is that men who serve in navies sign their lives away when they enter the service. All must be sacrificed, at the first instant of need, to the service and to the Flag!"
"That idea would frighten some mothers, wouldn't it?" smiled CaptainJack Benson.
"Fighting battles is not a woman's business," replied Danvers, soberly and reverently. "Her task is to rear sons who shall be unafraid, and to leave the rest to the God of Battles."
The "Hastings" now drifted so lazily over the waters that Eph stood by the wheel, one hand resting indolently against the uppermost spokes.
The "Thor" had headed off, after watching the explosion of the torpedo, and was now considerably off the "Hastings's" port beam. The "Oakland," on the other hand, was heading up for an official view of what wasn't there in the shape of a derelict.
As she came in close the gunboat sounded three long, hoarse whistles.
"There are your congratulations from the board, Benson," laughed the naval lieutenant, then walked over to port. Jacob Farnum slipped out on the platform deck to hear any hail that might come from Uncle Sam's gunboat.
Danvers was no longer interested in the scene. Whatever was to come, he felt, would be tame compared with what he had recently seen.
So he stood, looking out dreamily over the waters at port. He saw the "Thor" head for the "Hastings," as though intending to come up. Then she veered off, heading eastward. At this instant the naval officer happened to have his glass to his eyes. He had just counted the number of people in sight on the Rhinds craft.
"All but one of the Rhinds crowd on deck," thought Mr. Danvers. "I don't make out that fellow, Radwin. He must be taking the engine trick."
Jack Benson also sauntered over to port side, though not with any intention of addressing the naval officer. Benson was not thinking of anything in particular as he glanced out over the waves.
Then, all of a sudden, the young submarine commander sprang alert with suspicion—next, certainty and horror!
Out there on the water something was moving—something headed toward the "Hastings." It came on with a swift, cleaving movement. There was a suspicion of a fin throwing up a little spray in the path of motion.
It was horrible—unbelievable!
The mere suspicion galvanized him into action.
Captain Jack's feet barely seemed to touch the deck as he leaped forward.
Eph was at the wheel, but there was no time to shout a frenzied order that might be misunderstood.
Besides, in the instant that he was in the air, young Benson had no sharply defined plan of what he was going to do.
But that fin over to port was the half-visible upper part of a moving torpedo! It was headed so as to intercept the "Hastings" on her slow, forward course.
If he rang for speed ahead, Captain Jack knew it might not come swiftly enough to carry his boat and its human load ahead to safety.
In any case, it must be a job of seconds. If Hal responded slowly to the signal—then destruction!
All this seemed to flash like lightning through the young commander's head as he made that leap for the wheel.
Somers being in the way, young Benson flung him violently aside.
Captain Jack's left hand grasped a spoke of the steering wheel; his right hand signaled violently for speed astern.
Would Hal respond in time to save them all?
It was a breathless moment.
Captain Jack Benson, resting one hand on the wheel, gazed off at port side with fascinated stare.
Almost instantly a grating could be heard that must have come from the propeller shafts, though the young skipper, at that moment, was incapable of thinking of anything save that tiny fin-line out on the water.
Then the speed ahead of the submarine boat stopped. In another moment the little steel craft was creeping backward.
On came that fin-line.
There was nothing more that Jack could do, save to hold the wheel rigid.
On for the bow of the "Hastings" came the fin-line. Would that moving torpedo strike, hurling them all to destruction?
It must have been by a hair's breath, but that fin-line crossed the bow of the submarine. It had gone on, beyond—harmlessly, now!
"What's that you're saying, Eph?" demanded Jack. "Oh, yes; you want to know why I bowled you over in that fashion. Because there wasn't time to speak. I was crazy to get the reverse gear at work, and take us out of the path of that torpedo aimed for us."
"Torpedo?" demanded Eph Somers, thunderstruck.
"Torpedo?" repeated Jacob Farnum, in bewilderment.
"Yes," broke in Lieutenant Danvers, stepping forward. "See, its force is expended, and now it's floating on the water over there off the starboard bow."
Jacob Farnum stared at it as though utterly unable to comprehend anything.
"I saw the thing coming our way," went on the naval officer, hastily, "though not as soon as Benson did. By the time that I knew it, he was acting. So I held my peace, for, if Benson had failed—well, nothing would have mattered much—then!"
In a few more crisp, swift sentences; Danvers told the rest of it adding:
"It was Benson's quick coolness that saved us all from going skyward."
"No, it wasn't," broke in the youthful skipper, decisively. "It was Hal, who was right by his engines, who saved us. Had he acted on the signal a second and a half later that torpedo would have struck us plumb and fair."
"But who could have let a torpedo loose in that fashion?" stammeredFarnum. "What accident—"
"Accident!" broke in Jack, sneeringly.
"Accident!" repeated Danvers, scornfully.
"Well, then, how—"
"Mr. Farnum," broke in Jack Benson, sternly, "that torpedo was fired by design, with intent to sink us!"
"What? Who—"
"I can't make any positive charge," it was Lieutenant Danvers's turn to say. "But I can offer certain evidence that I'll stick to anywhere. Just a few seconds before that torpedo got so close to us I was noting the Rhinds boat, the 'Thor.' Her course was toward us, briefly. Then she turned off on another course."
"Do you mean to say that the Rhinds boat was turned our way at just the time when that torpedo could have left her, headed for us?" demanded Jacob Farnum.
"That's the whole indication," replied Lieutenant Danvers, firmly.
"Then what are we doing, waiting here?" cried the shipbuilder, angrily. "Jack, now that that torpedo is spent, and lying harmless on the water, start up speed and head over that way. Go carefully, for, remember, any sudden shock against the war-head of the torpedo would set it off."
Jack signaled for slow speed ahead, the response coming promptly.
"Somers," directed Lieutenant Danvers, "get the signal bunting out, and I'll help you rig a signal to the 'Oakland.'"
It was the first time, on any of the cruises, that Danvers had attempted to give an order, or to take any part in the handling of the craft. But now he was about to make a serious report, as an officer of the United States Navy.
In a very few moments, Danvers and Somers working together, the necessary flags were out, and knotted to the line in their proper order.
"Hoist away!" ordered the lieutenant, himself giving a hand on the halliard.
Up the signal mast went the line of bunting, fluttering. The little flags spelled out this message to the gunboat:
"Evidence of serious foul play. Join us to investigate."
Almost immediately there came a signal from the bridge of the gunboat, to show that the message had been read.
Jack was now slowing down speed, making ready to lie to, a hundred yards or less from the floating torpedo.
"Mr. Farnum, Hal's always at his post," said Jack, "but call down to him to be sure to stick particularly close for the next few minutes. If the wind shifts, and heads that torpedo our way, I want to be sure of instant speed for getting out of the way."
The gunboat was now cruising leisurely over to where the "Hastings" waited. Danvers signed to the officer on the "Oakland's" bridge to keep an especial eye on the floating torpedo.
As the "Oakland" slowed up, a cutter, in charge of an ensign, put away from the gunboat's side.
"Ensign," shouted Lieutenant Danvers, "we shall feel obliged if you can lie alongside of that torpedo, and render the war-head harmless. We believe the torpedo to be fully loaded, and ready for instant action."
"I'll do what I can, sir, and as promptly as possible," replied the ensign, saluting his superior officer.
A few minutes later the working part of the torpedo's war-head had been removed by the boat's crew, and the torpedo itself was taken in tow.
"Now, Ensign, run in alongside, and take me on board," announced Lieutenant Danvers. "Mr. Benson, you'll go over to the 'Oakland' with me, of course?"
By this time the "Thor" had come about, and up within hailing distance of her Pollard rival.
"What's wrong? What has happened?" demanded John C. Rhinds, in a hoarse, croaking voice.
None aboard the "Hastings" took the trouble even to look in the direction of the speaker.
"Can't you hear, aboard the 'Hastings'?" insisted Rhinds.
But he had no better result than from his first hail.
In the meantime, Danvers and Jack, on reaching the gunboat, went at once before a council composed of the naval board and the commander of the gunboat.
The two witnesses told their story speedily and clearly.
"Can you swear that the torpedo was fired from the 'Thor,' Lieutenant?" inquired Captain Magowan, president of the naval board.
"I cannot, sir, but all the evidence points to the truth of my suspicion. For one thing, while some of the submarines were in line with us, yet all were too far away to drive a torpedo that far. Besides, as I have stated, the 'Thor' turned briefly toward us, at just the time when the torpedo would have been fired from her, then swung around promptly."
All of the naval officers present showed, in their faces, the horror they felt over the situation.
"It does not seem to me," declared Captain Magowan, glancing around at his associates, "that there can be any doubt as to our course. The evidence, though wholly circumstantial, is about as strong as it could be."
"Besides which, sir," advanced Mr. Danvers, "The 'Thor' was provided with a stated number of torpedoes."
"Four," nodded Captain Magowan; "just as was the case with each of the other submarine boats."
"Then, if you search the 'Thor,' and find but three torpedoes aboard, now—"
"That will be all the evidence needed." admitted Captain Magowan. "We will make the search, and, on finding but three torpedoes aboard the 'Thor,' we will place everyone on board under arrest, and send the 'Thor' into port under charge of one of our own naval crews. Gentlemen, there is no need of further delay. Commander Ellis, I will ask of you a cutter, a crew, a corporal and a file of marines."
"The boat and men shall be ready at once, sir," replied the gunboat's commander, hastening from the room.
Grimly the three officers comprising the board rose and hooked their swords to their belts, for they were going on an official visit.
Nor was any time lost. Jack Benson and Lieutenant Danvers were ordered to accompany the members of the board.
So John Rhinds's question was destined to have a prompt answer, even if of a kind different from what he had expected.
On the platform deck of the "Thor," as the cutter approached, stood several men whose faces expressed the utmost astonishment.
And again Rhinds inquired, this time with a little tremor in his voice:
"What's wrong gentlemen? What has happened?"
"We're coming aboard," retorted Captain Magowan. "Have your men stand by to catch our lines."
John Rhinds submitted, in silence, while the members of the board, the corporal's file of marine rifles and Lieutenant Danvers boarded the "Thor." But when Jack started to bring up the rear Rhinds's voice rose in angry protest.
"That young Benson fellow can't come aboard here!" cried the old man, his cheeks purple, his eyes aflame with anger. "Benson represents a rival submarine company!"
"If he represents a dozen companies, he's coming aboard this time," retorted Captain Magowan, coldly. "Corporal, see to it that no interference with Mr. Benson is attempted."
"Yes, sir," replied the corporal, saluting.
So Jack came aboard, and took his place quietly beside LieutenantDanvers.
"Mr. Rhinds," began Captain Magowan, solemnly, "a torpedo only just barely missed striking the 'Hastings' a while ago. We have evidence that your craft was pointing nose-on to the 'Hastings,' just before the torpedo appeared by the Pollard craft."
"Do you mean, sir, that we are charged with—or suspected of—firing a torpedo at a rival submarine boat?" demanded John Rhinds, heavily, in a voice vibrating with astonishment.
"Some of the evidence seems to point that way," returned Captain Magowan, dryly.
"Why, sir," began Rhinds, indignantly, "it's preposterous. It's—"
But Captain Magowan cut him short by a wave of the hand.
"What we want, now, Mr. Rhinds, is to go below and examine your stock of loaded torpedoes. You should have four on board. If you prove to have only three—"
"Step this way, gentlemen. Follow me," begged Mr. Rhinds, making a rather ceremonious bow. Then he led the way below. Danvers and Jack followed the others.
And here all hands encountered a tremendous surprise. The "Thor" still carried her full supply of four loaded torpedoes!
Over the intense astonishment that followed this discovery came the oily, tones of John C. Rhinds:
"Now, gentlemen, I won't speak of an apology, for I know you must have strong seeming reasons before you went so far as to suspect anyone aboard the 'Thor' of an atrocious crime. But, in the face of the evidence you have here, you will admit that it is impossible to attach any guilt to anyone aboard this craft."
"Well, Mr. Benson," broke in Captain Magowan, dumfounded.
"So it would seem," murmured the captain's two puzzled associates on the board.
"What the deuce can it mean?" was what Lieutenant Danvers said, but he was discreet enough to say it under his breath.
"Come, young Benson," challenged John Rhinds, "even you must admit that the 'Thor' shows a clean bill of moral health!"
"I'll admit that two and two make five, and that the moon is made of sage cheese," retorted Captain Jack. "I'll admit that the north pole is steam-heated. But—"
"Well, Mr. Benson," broke in Captain Magowan, crisply. "Why do you hesitate?"
"I believe, Captain," Jack went on, "that there are several questions that can yet be asked."
"Ask them, then, Mr. Benson," directed the president of the naval board.
"Yes, sir. Yet I would prefer that the questions be asked on deck, in the presence of the entire crew, and also of the naval officer who had been stationed on this craft during the cruise."
Ensign Pike was the officer of the Navy who had been on board the "Thor."Pike had remained up on the platform deck during this scene.
"Very good," nodded Captain Magowan. "We will return to the deck. I can see that there are many questions to be asked."
On the deck, on first boarding, Jack Benson had noticed the absence of Fred Radwin. While they were below Jack had caught a glimpse of Radwin in the "Thor's" engine room.
When the naval board and the others reached the deck Captain Magowan had Captain Driggs, of the "Thor," and the members of the boat's crew lined up together.
"Have you any questions that you wish to ask, Mr. Benson?" the president of the board inquired.
"Yes, sir. At the time that the torpedo passed our boat I would like to know just who of the 'Thor's' complement were below."
"Can you answer that, Mr. Driggs?" demanded Captain Magowan.
Driggs was a bronzed, shrewd-looking man of forty, with a face that looked rather sound and wholesome.
"Yes, sir," replied Driggs, promptly. "Mr. Radwin had volunteered to relieve the man on duty in the engine room. Mr. Radwin was below at the time, sir."
"And who else?"
"No one else at that time, sir."
"I think I can confirm that, Captain," broke in Lieutenant Danvers. "I had just studied the deck of this craft through my marine glass, and I remember remarking to myself that Radwin appeared to be the only one of this boat's complement who was not on deck."
Fred Radwin was now summoned, Captain Magowan and Jack both plying him with questions. It all came to nothing, however. Radwin remained wholly cool and gave his inquisitors no satisfaction.
Ensign Pike stated that he had had no knowledge of any torpedo having been driven from the "Thor." Yet Pike admitted that this might very easily have happened without his knowing it, since the discharge of a torpedo would hardly make enough noise to carry from below to the after part of the platform deck.
"But, anyway," insisted John Rhinds, blandly, "you must admit, Captain, that our possession of the full number of torpedoes allowed us is proof positive that we haven't been firing even one of them."
"That showing is certainly in your favor, Mr. Rhinds," admitted the president of the naval board, coldly. "I cannot see that the evidence at present available allows of my ordering anyone under arrest. I am bound, in view of the fact that suspicion has pointed your way, to state that I intend to leave the corporal and four of the marine privates aboard. On the home cruise a marine sentry will be posted, all the time, close to the after port of your torpedo tube."
"It is humiliating—very," sighed Mr. Rhinds. "Still, I shall be the last to offer any objection to any arrangement that seems wise to the members of the naval board."
The corporal and four of his marines were therefore left under command of Ensign Pike, with instructions to see to it that constant guard was kept by the torpedo tube.
No allusion to the evidence could be made before the members of the cutter's crew on the way back. Captain Magowan led his own party to the office of the commander of the gunboat.
"Er—gentlemen—" began Magowan, slowly, "I must admit that our most elaborate case of circumstantial evidence seems to be knocked into a cocked hat by the one substantial fact that the 'Thor' still has her full number of torpedoes on board."
"Then you don't believe that torpedo came from the 'Thor's' tube,Captain?" asked Jack Benson.
"I don't know what I believe," confessed the president of the board, shaking his head. "It seems to be clearly established that no other submarine was near enough to have fired a torpedo to cover the range I have just been informed by Commander Ellis that the recovered torpedo has been examined, and has proved to have contained the full war charge. More as a matter of form than anything else we will now order the remaining submarine boats alongside, and have them searched for a missing torpedo."
That search was accordingly made, but not one of the boats had a torpedo less than the four that it was supposed to carry.
The object of the lightning cruise having been accomplished, in the destruction of the half-sunken derelict, the order was given to sail back to Groton Bay at less speed than had been used on the outward trip.
As far as evidence went the mystery of the attempt to destroy the"Hastings" appeared to be as big a mystery as ever.
It was nearly dark, on the day following, when the submarine flotilla made its way up Groton Bay.
As soon as the craft was at its moorings the "Hastings" was immediately lighter by the going of one passenger.
Jacob Farnum went post-haste to the hospital, to inquire after DavidPollard's condition.
The inventor was in a good deal of pain, yet cheerful. The surgeons reported that his broken bones were healing slowly.
The chauffeur, too, was coming along as well as was possible, though he had been much worse hurt than had the inventor.
Grant Andrews and his workmen were aboard the "Benson." Half of the party was now prepared to come aboard the "Hastings" whenever called.
"Going ashore, Jack?" inquired Eph Somers.
"Not before Mr. Farnum returns. Nor do I believe any of us had better go ashore, without his express permission, old fellow," Benson replied.
Three gentlemen who did go ashore almost immediately after arrival were the members of the naval board.
Soon after, an order came for the removal of all torpedoes from the Rhinds boats. After that the corporal's guard was relieved from duty aboard the "Thor."
"And thus ends that chapter of the story, I reckon," grimly ventured Jack, when he saw the gunboat's cutter convey the corporal's guard away from the Rhinds submarine.
Jacob Farnum came back in the early evening. Lieutenant Danvers was ashore, which left only the regular crew of the "Hastings" on board. Grant Andrews and his men mounted guard over the two Pollard boats through the night, which left the captain and crew free to sleep—which they did with a royal good will.
No orders came over from the naval board, which fact made it look as though no new tests would be required immediately.
The next forenoon, at about ten o'clock, Eph discovered that the Seawold boat was leaving her moorings. Young Somers watched that lesser rival start down the bay before he dropped below to report the fact to Benson.
"What can it mean?" wondered the young captain, going hastily on deck. "Is the Seawold craft going into some test that we're not asked to meet?"
"If so," ventured Hal Hastings, "why isn't one of the gunboats putting out to sea with her."
"Here's Lieutenant Danvers coming off shore," announced Somers. "Perhaps he'll have some news."
Danvers boarded the "Hastings," but the shore boat waited alongside.
"I'm not going to stay. Just dropped alongside for a moment," explainedDanvers.
"I thought maybe you were coming on board so that we could go out on some test," suggested Captain Jack.
"There are to be no tests to-day," replied Danvers.
"Then what's that craft of the Seawold Company doing down the bay by herself?" Benson inquired.
"By Jove, she's going to have company, too," declared Eph. "There goes the Blackson boat out."
"And, probably, you'll soon see the Griffith and Day craft get under way," smiled Lieutenant Danvers.
"What does it mean?" insisted Captain Jack.
"That's the news," replied the naval officer.
Jack waited, somewhat open-mouthed.
"The fact is," continued Lieutenant Danvers, "such tests as we have already had have been sufficient to eliminate four of the six contestants for the favor of the Navy Department. This morning Captain Magowan, as president of the board, received a telegram from the Navy Department to the effect that four of the submarine types had been outclassed. The contest now lies between the Rhinds and the Pollard boats."
"We've beaten the Rhinds boats, too," muttered Jack.
"Yes; though not by such large margins as to rule the Rhinds boats out of all consideration," replied Lieutenant Danvers.
"So the Rhinds boat is to be our rival in future tests—our only rival?" cried Jack, eagerly.
"Yes, and—not speaking as an official, Mr. Benson—I very much incline to the belief that you can go on beating any one of the three Rhinds submarines with either of the pair that you have here. But the point is that the national government may prefer to have two types of boats. It begins to look, as far as indications can point, as though the Secretary of the Navy has some idea of ordering some Pollard boats for the Navy, and also some Rhinds boats."
"I wonder if the Secretary of the Navy has heard anything about the nasty way in which the Rhinds outfit tried to sink us at sea day before yesterday?" muttered Captain Jack, half savagely.
"I imagine some word of the kind has gone on to the Navy Department," replied Danvers, "I really don't know though."
"That nasty trick ought to be enough to bar the Rhinds boats," grumbledCaptain Benson.
"But, you see, my dear fellow, there's just one trouble," answered the naval officer. "Think whatever you may please about the guilt of Rhinds, or of Radwin, or some one under them, but where's the proof. On search the 'Thor' was found to have the full number of torpedoes issued to her. Now, government departments must be guided by evidence."
"Humph!" sighed Jack. "As things have turned out, I'd sooner beat theRhinds crowd than all the other submarine crowds together."
"I hope you do," rejoined the Lieutenant. "However, my belief is that the government will order some of your company's boats, and some of the Rhinds craft. About the only question, really, is who gets the larger order—and how much larger."
Jacob Farnum had come from his stateroom, and had listened to this talk in silence.
"How do you feel about it, Mr. Farnum?" asked the naval officer.
"I shall have to be satisfied with whatever share of the business my company can secure, of course," replied the shipbuilder. "Yet we know, and so does everyone, that we have proved the Pollard type of boat to be better than its nearest rival."
"Well, success to you all, and the largest measure of it possible!" wished Lieutenant Danvers, rising and shaking hands warmly all around. "For my part, I'd like to see you get orders, at once, for fifty boats, leaving all your rivals out in the cold. And now I must go on over to the 'Oakland.'"
Messrs. Rhinds and Radwin were on shore, at the hotel, but they had received word of the departure of four of the rival boats, and knew the reason for that departure.
"This," cried John Rhinds, getting up and pacing the room, while he smoked fast, "is the stage at which the game gets on my nerves!"
"Yes," agreed Radwin, though he spoke rather lazily. "It's fine to have only one rival left in the field, but it's discouraging to know that we're number two, and that the other fellow holds number one rank. Rhinds, I wonder if we can really get an order for any of our boats from the government. I hope that we can, at least, get rid of the three that we have on hand."
"Three?" uttered the president of the Rhinds Submarine Company, scornfully. "I'm going to sell the government at least a dozen!"
As he spoke, he struck his clenched fists together angrily.
"How?" asked Radwin.
"And, on the strength of having the United States' order for a dozen boats, I'm certain then, of being able to place orders for two or three dozen more boats with foreign governments."
"How are you going to place the order for a dozen with the United States government?" insisted Fred Radwin.
"How? By the very simple method of getting all the Congressmen andSenators of our state at work. Fred, I have just about all of theCongressional delegation from our state pestering the Secretary of theNavy until we get our order. The Congressmen from our own state willbe glad to see me get the business."
"Why?"
"Don't be a simpleton, Radwin! If we have to build a dozen submarines, we have to hire a lot of workmen, don't we? And I'm always careful to engage workmen who have votes. Besides, such a volume of business would turn loose a lot of new capital and wages in our part of the state. Oh, we can trust our Congressmen, Fred, to get us a big slice of this submarine business."
"I hope our miss-fire trick, out at sea day before yesterday, won't hurt our chances any," whispered Fred Radwin, musingly. "Why did you do that fool thing?" whispered Rhinds, with a dark look at his secretary.
"Why did I fail, you mean?" hissed Radwin. "Oh, don't try to throw any reproaches at me, now. You were willing enough to help me send that torpedo over at the 'Hastings.'"
"I can't understand how the torpedo missed," shivered Rhinds.
"Well, you were at the wheel," retorted Radwin in a low undertone. "You held the nose of the boat true enough, too, I guess, when I let the torpedo drive. But that infernal Jack Benson was on the watch, and he saw the thing coming. Of course he stopped his boat and put the reverse clutch on just in the nick of time. That young Benson always appears to be in the nick of time!"
"So much so," wavered John Rhinds, "that I'm beginning to feel decidedly superstitious about that young fellow. He'll land us, yet, in something, and ruin us."
"No, he won't!" hissed Radwin, sharply. "Benson hasn't landed us yet, has he? And he's not going to, either! I've one or two rods in pickle for that forward young scamp, and I'll serve him to a fare-you-well yet! Rhinds, I may yet find a way that will insure our gettingallthe submarine orders!"
"You're ingenious enough, I know, Fred," admitted the older man, in a worried voice. "I hope you'll win for us. It will be money enough in your pocket to satisfy even you, Fred. Still, I'm worried by the way your plans against Benson have already missed fire."
Out in the hallway, at that moment, they heard a voice that made them both start. The voice was not loud, but it was angry, determined, and carried well. It was the voice of a man sweeping aside the objections of a hotel servant.
"Don't tell me they're not in, you idiot!"
"The servant I paid to be on the lookout is trying to steer away some one that insists on seeing us," whispered Fred Radwin, listening intently.
"Neither of the gentlemen are in, I tell you, sir," replied the hotel servant, doggedly.
"Get out of the way, fellow! I know the number of their suite of rooms, and I'm going to it. I don't want to hurt you, fellow, but I'm the Chief of Police, and I mean to see Mr. Radwin without delay!"
"The Chief of Police!" gasped Radwin, feeling his knees weaken under him.
He and Rhinds stared uneasily at each other.
"You see him first," whispered Fred Radwin. "I've some things in my pockets that I wouldn't want the chief of police to find. Hold the police fellow by telling him I'll be right in."
With that Radwin slipped to the door of a connecting room in the suite. He passed through, closing the door noiselessly and slipping the key in the lock.
An instant later John Rhinds opened his door out into the hallway.
"Who is it to see us?" he called.
"It's I, Ward, time Chief of Police," replied the caller, stepping into the room. "You are Mr.—"
"Rhinds."
"I wish to see your Mr. Radwin. I have a message for him."
"Be seated, Chief," urged the rascal. "Mr. Radwin will be here in a moment."
"Where is Radwin now?" demanded the chief.
"In the next room. He'll be here in a moment."
"Did he go through that door?" asked Chief Ward.
"Yes."
"Then I'll see him at once," replied the official.
He stepped over and tried the knob of the door. Finding the bolt shot, Chief Ward promptly put his stalwart shoulder to the door. At the second bump the door yielded. Ward burst into the next room, then on to the third.
"Why did you trick me, Mr. Rhinds?" called the chief, angrily.
"I? Why—I—"
Radwin was not to be found.
The Chief of Police, angry at being baffled in his search for Radwin, went away declaring that he would have an order issued for the arrest of Rhinds as an accessory.
Radwin did not return.
Though looking outwardly composed, John C. Rhinds passed the next few hours in a condition of internal unrest.
Why did Chief Ward want to see Fred Radwin? And why had the latter tricked himself off out of sight?
These questions tormented Rhinds the more because he could not even invent satisfactory answers to them.
"Is the chief of police acting on anyone else's orders?" quavered the old man. "Has Fred betrayed himself in anything he has done? Is he a fugitive from justice? Oh, mercy! What a situation just when I am trying to put the deals through that shall make the Rhinds Submarine Company the richest concern of its kind in the world!"
By the middle of the afternoon Rhinds heard the newsboys calling something excitedly down in the street.
"What's that? What's that?" gasped the old man, holding one hand to his ear. "Sounds like 'Dastardly plot—submarine mystery.' Can it be anything to injure our chances?"
As he looked down into the street, from the altitude of the third floor window, Rhinds saw that, whatever the news, the boys appeared to be selling papers fast.
For a few seconds Rhinds wavered. Then he crossed the room to the telephone.
"Send me up the latest editions of the newspapers," he 'phoned the clerk in the office. After that he lighted a big, black cigar—and waited, mopping the perspiration from his forehead.
After a few moments there came a knock at the door, and Rhinds opened it. He noticed that the bell-boy looked at him somewhat queerly as the papers were handed over. Then, having closed the door and locked it, John Rhinds sank into a chair, holding up three newspapers, in turn, and scanning the big, black headlines.
Yes; here it all was—the whole story in every essential detail. It told of the mysterious attempt to destroy the "Hastings" at the end of the lightning cruise. The stories contained Lieutenant Danvers's statement that the "Thor" had been headed toward the "Hastings" just a few seconds before the torpedo passed the Pollard boat's bows. There was an account of the naval party's search of the "Thor," and the fact that the latter craft was found to have her full number of torpedoes on board was set forth in all fairness. Oh, yes! The story was fair enough! No newspapermen could have been fairer than had the chroniclers of this exciting submarine news. There were no accusations against Rhinds or his associates—nothing but the fair, unbiased telling of facts. And yet, in almost any reader's mind the opinion would be quick to form that only from the "Thor" could the treacherous torpedo have been fired.
"Oh, it's—it's awful!" cried John Rhinds, waving the papers over his head like a madman.
Jack Benson had played his master stroke in this new game.
In former times, when the Pollard boats had been all but unknown, Captain Jack had been quick to grasp the importance of newspaper fame. As told in the second volume of this series, Jack had once invited a big party of newspaper folks to Dunhaven, to observe some startling performances by the Pollard boat. At that time he had given them a programme so full of excitement that the fame of the Pollard boat had been flashed over the country, and the Navy Department had found public opinion clamoring for the United States Navy to own and control a few of these wonderful craft.
And now, Jack Benson, wholly and absolutely convinced of the guilt of Rhinds and Radwin, had gone to the local daily newspaper offices with his account of what had happened out at sea.
It was a great stroke. Yet Captain Jack had not undertaken it without first having secured the permission of Jacob Farnum. After Jack went to the newspaper offices the Colfax reporters had busied themselves with interviewing naval officers, including members of the naval board.
And now the story was out, for the world to read. Yet it was a statement only of bare, easily proved facts. The newspapers were glad to have such a startling yarn, and it had been told in such a way that John Rhinds did not have a single chance in any suit he might bring for libel.
After the first shock that the discovery caused him, John C. Rhinds began to suspect Jack's hand in this straight-from-the-shoulder blow.
"It's that young Benson again!" he raged, silently, rising and stamping on the offending, yet truth-telling, newspapers. "And this will get beyond Colfax! The newspapers of the larger cities will begin to hear of this by evening. To-night this whole yarn will be flashing over the telegraph wires of the country. Tomorrow morning millions of people will be reading this awful stuff. Oh, if I could only tear that young fellow to pieces!"
John Rhinds gnashed his teeth in his fury. Had he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, just then, the man would have been afraid of his own reflection.
Yet, with all his guilty knowledge of what he had encouraged Radwin to do, it did not occur to Rhinds to lay the blame anywhere except upon the shoulders of honest, though hard fighting, Captain Jack Benson.
Presently, John Rhinds cooled down.
He even became suave and smiling—though under the smile a ghastly pallor lay on his cheeks.
This change of outward temper was all because he was forced to become crafty before others.
It is a common way with many newspapers to leap on a man and trounce him, figuratively speaking, and then to send reporters around to see how the victim has enjoyed the flaying.
That was what happened to John Rhinds.
Within half an hour after the newspapers had come to him a message overthe telephone from the hotel office informed the president of the RhindsSubmarine Company that a reporter was below who wished to interview Mr.Rhinds.
"Ah! Er—huh!" choked the wretch, swallowing hard. "Have the young gentleman shown up, of course. And send up any other reporters who may ask for me."
By the time that the first reporter reached the door Rhinds had carefully removed all traces of the torn newspapers. The old man was calm. He even smiled slightly, though he affected to be stung to the soul by the thought that any American could think that he, or any of his party aboard the "Thor" could have been guilty of such a fearful attempt of crime.
"But of course, young man," urged Rhinds, suavely, "you will be able, through the great power of the press for right, to set all suspicions at rest. You will, I beg of you, give renewed publicity to the fact that we were found to have our full number of torpedoes aboard. That one fact, of course, disposes of any suspicion that we could have thought of doing such a fearful thing."
The reporter was young, but he was not lacking in shrewdness. This boyish-looking journalist had interviewed smooth-talking scoundrels before.
"There is one little point I would like to inquire about, Mr. Rhinds," hinted this reporter, chewing at the end of his pencil.
"A dozen—a hundred points—anything you want to know!" protested the man who was being interviewed.
"Thank you," nodded the reporter, coolly. "Now, it is a well-established fact that you had your full number of torpedoes aboard, when the naval officers searched. But have you any place on board the 'Thor' that would serve as a hiding place for an extra torpedo—an extra torpedo that might, let us say, have been obtained in any one of a number of ways?"
John C. Rhinds began to feel great waves of chill passing up and down his spine. Hang this smiling, boyish reporter! Rhinds began to feel that he hated this young man next to Jack Benson!
"No!" shouted the interviewed one, hoarsely, angrily. "We have no such hiding place on board. We have no place that could be used for hiding an extra torpedo."
The reporter nodded, then continued with a cool smile:
"Thank you, Mr. Rhinds, for answering so important a question on such a vitally important point. It is very important to have the suspicion disposed of that such a hiding place might exist."
"Very important," confirmed John Rhinds, leaning forward in his most impressive manner. "And you have my authority for settling the point for good and all."
"So that, of course, Mr. Rhinds," pursued the cool, smiling young reporter, "you will be most glad when I suggest to you the importance of allowing a commission composed of, say, an editor and two reporters from the 'Gazette' to go aboard the 'Thor,' search for such a hiding place, and then be prepared to inform the world that no such hiding place exists on the 'Thor.'"
That proposition came like a torpedo itself; it struck, too, below the water-line of John Rhinds's hard-won composure.
"Why do you—?" he stammered. Then the wretch forced himself to be cool again.
"No, my young friend, I am sorry to say that that would not be practicable. You see, a submarine craft is full of secrets. Outside of our own crew none but officers of the Navy can be permitted to go below the platform deck of any of my boats."
"Oh, well, then," nodded the reporter, "the 'Gazette' can clamor for a naval board to be appointed to make the search, and at once. That will serve the purpose as well, Mr. Rhinds—and it will answer the most burning question that the public will want to ask."
Then came the other reporters. Rhinds saw them all, wore before them all the mask of wounded innocence, showed them all how easily they might allay all public suspicions.
Then, when the last reporter had departed, John Rhinds, feeling too weak to stand, sank down upon a sofa, covering his face with his hands. Thus, for some time he lay, hardly giving signs of life. His fright was great, indeed.
In striking this blow young Captain Jack Benson had struck far harder than he had even dreamed.
When Rhinds began to realize things once more he missed Fred Radwin—Radwin, the seeming fugitive, who had run away from his foul leader at the first sound of a police voice.
Still, it was possible that Radwin was not far away. Possible, also, that in this fact lay time greatest danger that had ever menaced Jack Benson.