CHAPTER X
UNDER WATER, WHERE MEN'S NERVES ARE TRIED
After that first stop, after that first feeling of exhilaration was over, the anxious thought of all on the platform deck was:
"Is there any fault in her construction? Is she going to sink?"
Not that any of these six human beings would have been in much danger, for all were where they could free themselves and swim.
It was the defeat of months of hopes that would have been terrible.
A few moments of tension, then David Pollard's gaze lighted on Eph
Somers, unconcernedly smiling.
"Hullo!" muttered the inventor. "How do you happen on board?"
"Me?" grinned Eph. "Why, you see, I'm the mascot."
But Jack Benson, fearful that, under the strain, something unpleasant might be said to his newly-found friend, asked, quietly:
"Going to drop the anchor?"
Grant Andrews, Hal and Eph quickly attended to this.
The flag at the short pole had become wrapped around its short staff. Jacob Farnum noted this just in time and hastily shook it out, for the band had suddenly begun to play "The Star Spangled Banner," and on shore the crowd was hushed, hats off and at attention. On board the submarine hats were quickly doffed, all turning with reverent gaze toward the Flag!
For a long time the crowd on shore remained, staring with fascinated gaze at the craft from which wonders were expected. Presently a small boat put off from shore. Mr. Farnum and Mr. Pollard were taken off and went ashore to talk over matters with Lieutenant Jackson.
The "Pollard" now sat jauntily on the water. Only the upper two feet of her oddly-shaped hull were out of water, neither the bow nor stern showing. In rough weather the platform deck would be a wet place, indeed; but now, with little wind, and the water only slightly rippling, the deck was drying rapidly under the glare of the hot summer sun.
"I guess we might as well go below and get on dry clothing," hinted
Grant Andrews.
"Is there any such thing aboard?" queried Jack, in surprise.
"Yes, thanks to Mr. Farnum's thoughtfulness. Come on; I'll show you."
So the four piled below, and, in one of the state-rooms aft, Andrews pointed to a goodly store of clothing, much more than would be needed for the present, and of different sizes, even to shoes. There were also rough bath towels with which to rub down dry.
"I wonder do I come in on these?" murmured Eph, doubtfully.
"Well, since nothing has been said to the contrary," laughed Andrews, quietly, "I think I'd be brave enough to try it. You're surely as wet as any of us."
The four were quickly in undershirts and linen. But the outer suits made the boys wonder a bit. These suits were dark blue uniforms, the coats braided, and the front buttons hidden by another band of braid. The caps were of visored naval pattern.
"Say," asked Eph, looking about him, "I'm only a common sailor, at most.
Ain't there any common sailor togs lying about?"
"I don't know where," smiled Andrews. "I judge, from the togs, that we're all to be captains."
So Eph, with a comical sigh, fitted himself to a uniform and donned it.
"Maybe I'll have a chance to strut about in this for an hour, until the owner comes aboard and throws me into the water, after stripping me," murmured Eph, wistfully.
Then, as young Somers caught a glimpse of himself in one of the state-room mirrors, he stood up unaccountably straight, inflating his chest and bulging it out.
They had to go up on deck again. It all seemed so much like a dream that all hands wanted to get up where they could stare at the hull, the water and at anything else that could make them realize that the "Pollard" was launched and they were aboard.
A boat-load of men soon put out.
"They're special workmen, coming to finish up on the air-compressors," explained Grant Andrews. "We have nothing to do with their work. All we've got to do is to take things easily for the present."
"I'm going to get busy, if they'll let me help at anything," declared Eph. "When the two bosses come aboard I'm mighty anxious to have them think I look natural here."
"Are you going to try to join the crew, Eph?" asked Jack, in an undertone.
"Well, I'm not going to be put ashore, except by force," declared young Somers, wistfully. "I've been dreaming about this old boat for three months back. Say, I'd give anything I had, even if it was a lot, to stay aboard this craft for good and all."
"I know how you feel," nodded Jack Benson. "And I don't blame you.
It's going to be a grand old life, and, Eph, I hope you're to be in it."
As soon as the special workmen were aboard Eph followed them below. He hung about until he saw a chance to help, then joined in the work. He was as industrious as the proverbial beaver when Messrs. Farnum and Pollard at last came aboard and went below.
"Hm! Does that new boy figure that he belongs aboard with us?" asked
David Pollard, of Jack, when the pair came on deck again.
"He's frightfully anxious to be of the crew, sir," Benson answered.
"And he seems like a splendid fellow."
"We might as well let him stay aboard, Dave," proposed Mr. Farnum. "He's a good, straightforward young chap, and comes of good water stock. I know what it is to be a youngster and to have ambitions."
"All right, then," nodded the inventor. "Let him stay. I dare say we can use his time."
"May I, as a great favor, go below and tell him he may stay?" asked Jack, eagerly.
"Why, you seem to take a personal interest in young Somers," laughed the yard's owner.
"I do. And he was useful in your interests this morning, Mr. Farnum."
"Run along and tell him, then," nodded the yard's owner.
When Eph heard the news he stopped work long enough to dance an exultant jig on the cabin floor.
"Oh, Jack Benson, if ever you want a favor—a great, big one, with trimmings—come to me!" begged young Somers, imploringly as soon as he caught his breath again.
Then, to keep his rising spirits down, Eph returned, to work as soberly as he could.
Later Grant Andrews, with Eph's help, cooked a meal at the galley fire, and this all hands ate while the special workmen kept at their task.
When they were on deck again Mr. Pollard said, in a low voice:
"Boys, I may as well tell you what Mr. Andrews already knows. Work on the interior of this boat is much further along than we've allowed to leak out. In fact, when the men below finish with the air-compressors, in a few hours, we're all ready to put out to sea on a stealthy trial trip of our own."
"Wow!" sputtered Eph, enthusiastically.
"Now," continued Mr. Pollard, earnestly, "of course we believe most thoroughly in this boat, but, until the actual trial is made, we don't know how she'll behave. If any of you feel like backing out, why, go ashore before we start, but keep your tongues behind your teeth."
"Reminds me of what my Dad once did in the hen-yard," remarked Eph, in a low voice. "He went out with a couple of quarts of corn, looked at the hens, and said: 'Now, biddies, I'm going to toss your supper down. But any of you critters that want can go in and roost for the night before I do it.'"
"Well?" asked David Pollard, a bit puzzled.
"Would you believe it?" asked Eph, with a comical twist of his mouth,
"Every blessed hen stayed. Fact, sir!"
Just before dark the special workmen went ashore. Again Andrews and Eph prepared a meal, which was eaten.
Then followed a restless two hours, waiting until the town was asleep, for the gasoline tanks were filled, and all was ready for the first turn of the drive-wheel below.
It was after half-past ten when Pollard at last said:
"Go below and get the gasoline engines started, Andrews."
The boys followed him below to watch the work. Messrs. Farnum and Pollard, too, were soon below, for they wanted to observe the work of the air compressors and the dynamos. The work had to be started by lantern light, but, within ten minutes, it was possible to turn on electric lights below.
"Everything is working as perfectly as though the boat had been in commission a year," remarked the inventor, hoarsely. His suspense was almost painful to watch.
"Everything is all ready for a start, isn't it. Andrews?" inquired
Mr. Farnum.
"Everything appears to be, sir, so far as the power's concerned," replied Andrews. "But I'm going to stay by the engine. I want to be on hand to watch whatever might happen."
Power was applied to raise the anchor.
"You take the wheel, Benson, since you had it during the launching," said the yard's owner. "Somers, stand by on deck. Hastings, you go below and stand with Mr. Andrews."
"Give the go-ahead at slow speed," directed David Pollard, nervously.
So Jack gave the speed wheel a small turn, then rested both hands on the steering wheel. Without an unnecessary sound, and with no outer lights showing, as yet, the "Pollard" was headed for the mouth of the little harbor, Mr. Farnum standing by as pilot.
Just as they passed out on to the edge of the ocean Farnum himself turned on the electric sailing lights.
"She rides the water easily," remarked Pollard, almost in a whisper. "I wonder how she can go at speed?"
"We'll find out, now we've got clear seaway ahead," replied Mr. Farnum.
"Benson, turn on a few miles more."
Quickly obeying the impulse of her twin-propellers, the "Pollard." began to dance over the waves.
"Say, but she's the fine, light-riding boat!" cried the builder, joyously.
"Just as I thought she would be. Give her more speed, Benson."
So the speed was turned on, more and more. The "Pollard," as far as those aboard, could see, had the whole of that part of the ocean to herself. She was still headed due east, and was moving at last at the rate of seventeen of the twenty-one miles an hour of which she was believed to be capable.
Even at this rapid gait the semi-immersed "Pollard" rode splendidly, with hardly any vibration noticeable.
As he watched, instead of feeling the thrill of triumph that influenced the crew, David Pollard's face was whitening with anxiety. His face, almost ghastly in its look, was deeply furrowed.
"We're doing well enough on top of the water," he muttered, hoarsely, at last, to the builder. "But will the boat dive? How will she run under water? I must—know!"
"Good enough! We'll soon know, then," replied Jacob Farnum. He passed the word for Andrews, who came on deck. The ventilators were quickly shipped. Jack Benson shifted to the steersman's seat inside the conning tower. Sailing lights were turned off; the manhole cover was battened down securely. They were dependent, now, on the air-compressing equipment whenever the air aboard became unfit to breathe.
Wedged on either side of Jack Benson in that little conning tower stood the builder and the inventor.
"You attend to the first submerging, Farnum," begged the inventor.
"I—I'm afraid I'm too nervous."
The gasoline motor had just been shut off, the submarine now running at less speed under power from the electric motor.
Handling the controls in the conning tower, Mr. Farnum, not without a swift, shooting thrill of dread, opened the sea-valves to the water tanks. As the tanks filled the "Pollard" settled lower and lower in the water. They were beginning to go down. All who were aboard felt the keen, apprehensive quiver of the thing, shut in, as they were, as though soldered inside a huge metal can.
The platform deck was quickly level with the water's surface, though Jacob Farnum was not rushing things. Then the deck outside, as shown by the steady glow of the lights in the conning tower, went out of sight, the water rising around the tower.
They continued slowly to sink until the top of the conning tower was less than three feet above the waves.
"Now, just a little dive!" pleaded David Pollard. "Oh, merciful heaven!"
"Pass the word to brace yourselves for the dive!" bawled Mr. Farnum below, and Eph, stationed at the bottom of the spiral stairway, yelled the word to the engine room.
Now, the sea-valves of the forward diving tanks were opened. As the water rushed into them, changing the balance of the boat, the bow shot downward, making it difficult for all to keep their footing. It was as though they were sliding down an inclined plane.
Another lurch, and down they shot under the water, where men's nerves may well be tried!