CHAPTER XII
LET A SAILOR STICK TO HIS DECK
It was after midnight when the "Benson," first in, went to her moorings. Grant Andrews and two of his men came on board, to stand guard over the little sea-terror.
It was after one in the morning when the Seawold craft strayed into port. A little later came the "Chelsea" and the remaining submarine rivals, for the gunboat had stood by the slower ones in case aid of any sort was needed.
As the "Zelda" came to her moorings in the inky blackness John C. Rhinds stepped out upon her platform deck. Rhinds, after his disappointment, looked like a very old man. He paced back and forth, moodily, until his captain and crew had gone below. Then Rhinds turned, with a half snarl, when Fred Radwin, after lighting a cigar, stepped outside.
"Feeling glum?" asked Radwin, stupidly, as he gazed at his chief.
"A fool question that!" snapped the older man.
"It is, rather," admitted the younger man.
"Radwin, you're an idiot!"
"Thank you!"
"You told me you had those three Pollard boys taken care of—'canned' was the word you used. Yet, the first thing we saw, when we me out on the harbor, was those same boys, looking their finest. And they went into today's affair and beat us. We've lost the speed and endurance test."
"Those boys were trapped, all right," protested Radwin, in a low tone.
"I can't begin to imagine how they ever got loose again."
"They got loose because you're a fool!" raged the older man.
"I'm good-natured, Mr. Rhinds" cried Radwin, an ugly gleam coming into his eyes, "but I don't stand everything. You'll need me yet so you'll do well to keep a civil tongue behind your teeth!"
"Stop that! Don't try any mighty airs on me!" quivered Rhinds.
"Oh, blow off your steam, quietly, and then become reasonable," yawned Fred Radwin. "First thing you know, you'll really make an enemy of me, and then the trick will be done, Rhinds. For you need me. Just now, you need me worse than you ever did in your life before."
"Need you?" sneered the other. "What for?"
"Well, for one thing, there are other tests ahead of the submarine boats."
"Can you win any of those tests?" jeered Rhinds, harshly.
"No; but I can do what will, perhaps, be the next best thing. I can stop the boys aboard the Pollard craft from being on hand to put their boat through all its paces. All you need is to have the Pollard end blocked. You can more than hold your end against the other submarines."
"Well, what can you do to stop the boys on the Pollard boats?" demanded
Rhinds, unbelievingly.
"I can stop them from being on hand at the next tests. Or else I can attend to them so that they'll be of very little use, anyway."
"Bah! You're dreaming, Fred! The boys were too smart for you last time; Now that they're on their guard, don't you realize they'd be harder than ever to catch."
"Jack Benson and his friends don't know that I was behind what happened last night," retorted Radwin. "Besides, if they're on their guard, now, so am I. I know them to be smarter than I first thought, so I shall spread a deeper, tighter net for them. John Rhinds, you shall win the rest of the submarine tests. At least, the Pollard boats won't win!"
Radwin talked so confidently that John Rhinds began to look at him more hopefully.
"What are you going to do, Fred?" the wretch inquired, at last.
"I'm going on shore—now."
"Everybody will know, if you call a boat at this hour of the night."
"Bosh! You and I are both going on shore—back to the Somerset House. Anything very strange about that?" demanded Radwin. "We're tired out from the day's cruise, and want to be off the water. So we're going to the Somerset. We'll drift in, get something to eat, and then start upstairs. You can hardly go to sleep, Rhinds, but I shall start out again, on the sly, and go to find some handy people I know in the little city of Colfax. So that's settled, and I'll signal for the boat now."
Jack and his comrades slept on the "Benson" that night. For one thing, they felt so tired, after the day's long strain, that they really lacked the desire even to go to larger, softer beds on shore. So they awoke in the morning feeling as fresh as sea-larks should.
"There are no tests on for to-day, and nothing to be done on board, except to clean the engines," spoke Jacob Farnum over the breakfast table in the little cabin. "So, youngsters, we'll go ashore and refresh ourselves. Grant's men will clean the engines. That's what they're really here for."
"Don't you think it would be wiser, sir, to remain on board?" smiled Captain Jack. "As you will remember, we found the shore rather too lively the last time we were there."
"Things happened because you boys got out of our sight," chuckled the shipbuilder, quietly. "That's the point. What you youngsters need is a brace of guardians. So, while you're to go on shore, Dave and I will go along, and you're not to get out of our sight. Remember that."
"We'll be safe, then," nodded Eph, sagely. "I surely do want to stretch my legs, and take a yawn or two where a sea-gull won't flap down my throat."
Of course, the idea of going on shore really appealed to all hands. So, half an hour later, a shore boat put off with them all, leaving Grant and his men still in charge.
"I wonder what the next test is going to be?" asked Jack.
"I shall have to refer you to the members of the naval board, and they won't tell until this evening," replied Mr. Farnum. "That's one of their rules—no news until the evening before. That prevents too much time being spent in preparation. One of the objects of these tests is to find out how well the different types of submarines can do things on short notice."
"That's right," nodded Captain Jack, thoughtfully. "Really, when you come to think of it, submarine torpedo boats are short notice craft anyway."
"And, best of all, with no notice whatever to the enemy," broke in Eph. "In future wars it's going to give a good deal of comfort to a fellow to think that he serves on a submarine, instead of on a battleship."
"Where are you going to stop on shore, Jake?" inquired Pollard.
"At the Somerset," responded Mr. Farnum.
"Then we're likely to run into that Rhinds-Radwin crowd."
"We can stand it, if they can," replied Farnum, compressing his lips grimly. "Our consciences are cleaner than theirs."
Indeed, in passing from the lobby to the breakfast room, where the Pollard party intended to take coffee, Messrs. Rhinds and Radwin were encountered just as they were coming out.
"Ah, good morning, gentlemen," hailed John C. Rhinds, halting and holding out his hand. Fred Radwin, too, beamed cordially upon the enemy.
"'Morning," replied Jacob Farnum, ignoring the outstretched hand of Rhinds. Radwin's ready-made smile, too, was overlooked, as the Pollard submarine party filed by into the breakfast room.
"I don't believe they'll waste any make-believe cordiality on us, after that," grimaced Mr. Pollard, as he dropped into a chair at a table.
Fifteen minutes later a stout, rather short, middle-aged man entered the breakfast room in haste. He spoke to the head waiter, who pointed out the table at which the submarine party sat.
Then the head waiter came over with a card and a letter which he handed to Farnum.
"'Mr. Walter C. Hodges,'" read Farnum, from the card. Then, glancing at the envelope "'Introducing Mr. Hodges.' It's from Judson, proprietor of the hotel where I stop when in Washington," continued the shipbuilder, as he glanced through the letter. "He asks me to extend any possible courtesies to Mr. and Miss Hodges, for whom he vouches cordially."
Rising, Mr. Farnum stepped over to meet Mr. Hodges, shaking hands with the stranger. Then the pair walked back to the table. Farnum quickly presented Mr. Hodges to the others.
"Judson asks me to extend to you any possible courtesies," pursued the shipbuilder. "I shall be very glad. Now, what can I do that will be most agreeable to you?"
"Why—er—er—" began Mr. Hodges, hesitatingly, "the thing that my daughter and I are most interested in is your line of boats. In fact, we came over to Colfax to see what we could of the boats and the tests. Now, my daughter and I would both like very much to go aboard one of your boats. Yet, if this would be at all irregular, or cause you any inconvenience, I beg you to refuse us, and we shall understand your refusal."
None the less, the shipbuilder did feel and look embarrassed.
"I wish it were anything else on earth," Farnum replied, frankly. "For, though it gives me more pain than you can understand, my dear Mr. Hodges, it will be absolutely impossible for us to admit anyone to the submarine boats during the present tests."
"Then say no more about it," replied Mr. Hodges, pleasantly. "I can quite understand your position."
"There is just a bare chance, though," mused the shipbuilder, "that I might manage to obtain an invitation for your daughter and yourself to go out on one of the gunboats, and watch the submarine craft at their work."
"Fine!" cried Hodges, with enthusiasm. "Yet, if it will inconvenience you in the least, Mr. Farnum, I beg you to give no further thought to it. Will you all, as soon as you are finished, come to the ladies' parlor with me? My daughter will be most delighted at meeting real submarine people."
"We are finished, now," replied Mr. Farnum, laying down his cigar, "and it will give us great pleasure to have the privilege of meeting Miss Hodges."
Though Hodges himself appeared a very common type of business man, and was plainly dressed, Miss Elinor Hodges proved to be a beautiful girl of about nineteen, and attired in the height of fashion.
She was, however, most charming and gracious, and evidently greatly interested in everything that had to do with submarine boats.
An hour's very pleasant chat followed in the ladies' parlor. Then Hodges, seeing an automobile pass one of the windows and halt before the ladies' entrance of the hotel, suddenly drew out his watch.
"Elinor, my dear, do you see the time?" demanded her father, holding out his watch. Then, as the submarine party rose, prepared to take their leave, Hodges turned to Farnum, explaining rapidly:
"Yes; unfortunately, we have an appointment, and must defer the further pleasure of seeing you until this evening. But that auto car outside, which I did not order for this hour, and, in fact, cannot use for to-day, gives me an idea. It is a car that I have hired for a week. Now, Elinor and I are not going to use the car. Mr. Farnum, can't you and your friends make use of the car to-day?"
Jacob Farnum would have tried to decline, pleasantly, fearing the acceptance of the use of the automobile might seem to bind him to extend courtesies on one of his boats. But Mr. Hodges was so gently, firmly insistent that, in a very short time, the submarine party found themselves seated in the car.
There was an abundance of room, for it was a seven-passenger car, large and roomy.
"This car is a whizzer, I understand," smiled Mr. Hodges, from the sidewalk.
"It certainly is, sir," agreed the chauffeur.
"Well, chauffeur, take my friends wherever they want to go to-day, and do whatever they want. Above all, when you get out on a country road, show 'em some of your high speed."
"Yes, sir."
Honk! honk! The car rolled away, going slowly enough through the city streets. Jacob Farnum, who sat in front with the driver, lighted a cigar and settled back to enjoy himself.
"Any particular place you want to go, sir?" asked the chauffeur.
"No," replied the shipbuilder. "You know the way around this part of the world better than we do. Take us out into the surrounding country, and show us anything you consider of interest."
"Yes, sir."
After a few minutes the car had left Colfax behind. They were out on the beginning of a country road, now. The chauffeur let out a few notches of speed.
"Smooth-running car," commented Mr. Farnum.
"Runs just as smoothly, sir, at sixty miles an hour," replied the man.
"When we get a little further out, you can us some of that," smiled
Mr. Farnum, contentedly.
"I will, sir."
"You boys afraid to go at sixty miles an hour?" asked the shipbuilder, turning to face those in the tonneau.
"Scared to death," laughed Jack Benson, gleefully.
As soon as the chauffeur considered that he had reached a little-enough-traveled part of the country road he let out the speed.
"My, but we're going some," called Farnum.
"Fifty miles," replied the chauffeur. "Now, I'll show you sixty."
The car seemed to leap forward. Then, it seemed to those in the tonneau as though they were beating any speed ever reached by an express train.
Whizz-zz! It was wild, exhilarating—dangerous!
"Say!" gasped Farnum. "If—"
That was as far as he got. The forward end of his side of the car sank to the ground. The car seemed trying to stand on its head.
Then it stopped, and all in it were hurled into the center of awful disaster.