“I name thee ‘Lockyer.’ May you always prove worthy of your flag, your service, and your name!”
“Hurroo!”
Mr. Lockyer, coolest of all now, waved his cap confidently at the dainty sponsor.
The wild cheer came from the workmen. It was caught up and echoed by the excited men on the deck of the now moving boat, and went swelling out on the still air till the crowd outside caught it up and gave it back with a will.
Even Mr. Pangloss’s iron jaw relaxed as he watched the inspiring sight of tons of steel shooting toward the sea at express speed. As Ned clutched the steering wheel every nerve in his body throbbed. The exciting thrill of motion ran through them all.
Down shot the submarine. As she neared the water, Lieutenant Parry darted back to the stern staff. Seizing the halliards, he ran the flag—rolled up in a ball as yet—to the truck.
Sp-l-a-s-h!
The white spray flew high. It descended in sparkling clouds, drenching everybody on the deck as the Lockyer shot forward into the water. Forward and outward she sped, straight and true as an arrow, her young helmsman holding her right on her course.
“Hurray!”