CHAPTER IX
BUT SOMETHING HAPPENED NEXT
"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 Fred
Radwin, 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.