Hiram suggested that he and the captain would get the motor out on the floor and test it in order to make sure that another crooked revolutionist had not met a crooked manufacturer.
While they were doing this I went to my office to get a better line on the traffic between that very interesting trio—Becker, Burrell and my clerk, Miss Bascom.
Captain Marianna helped Hiram, so they soon had the motor on skids, and 'phoned me to come down and try it out. The working test was satisfactory and after computing its horsepower, we decided it would drive the boat, and, possibly, at a fair speed. Before leaving the warehouse Hiram called my attention to a small portable sawmill outfit.
"If this works out, that's mine, too," he whispered, evidently still clinging to the idea of capturing logs in the river.
Hiram was right, nothing like the hull of the Fearsome had ever been produced before. A hundred and fifty feet long, and over thirty foot beam, and with a bulwark not more than a foot high about the entire outside. It looked like an immense skimming dish. Hiram thought it came from the canals of Mars, possibly a cup challenger there. Captain Marianna assured us, though she didn't look it now, she was very sturdy and seaworthy and she did not leak even a little since he had been on her. No doubt it had previously had gasoline power in it, for there were left intact the foundation beams. Hiram said that the captain, now penniless and almost starving, if given some cash and a good job, would likely be distinctly different from now on. I told him I thought the fellow was a fair bet, and left them at work getting the motor ready to move on board. The captain assured me the sale was to take place at nine the next morning. No one had been around to see it and I felt sure it would go for very little.
As I was up all night I did not see Hiram until the next morning. The sale looked as though it had been arranged for our benefit. The officer said the claims were nearly a thousand dollars, sold it promptly for that bid, got away as though in a hurry, and I attended to the details, leaving Hiram serious but jubilant.
It was late that night when he returned, tired and hungry but enthusiastic. He took little interest in a letter awaiting him until he told me all about his progress in moving the motor and getting it aboard the boat.
"We got the motor aboard late this evening and it fits as if made for the foundation beams, and it will connect with the propeller shaft and clutch with little trouble. But, say, the captain says we must have an air compressor for the whistle and an auxiliary gasoline tank,—and, say," he continued, while stripping down to wash—"I believe the captain is going to prove a jewel—he's all right."
"You still think him reliable?"
"Well, if he is as loyal to us as he was to his old employers he will be all right—and willing to turn his hand to anything."