“And the speed hasn’t dropped a hundredth part of a knot!” exclaimed the officer, glancing at the speed indicator. “Lockyer, she’s a marvel.”
“Officially?” said the inventor with a happy laugh.
“Well-er no. It’s a bit early for that, you know,” rejoined the officer cautiously. He knew that the Navy Department would require far more rigid and extended tests before they would pay out money for a contract.
“There’s clear sea-way ahead. Not a light to be seen, sir,” said Midshipman Stark presently.
“Right you are, Stark,” rejoined the lieutenant. “Strong, let’s have a little more speed. That is, if it won’t strain the engines, Mr. Lockyer. They’re new and stiff yet.”
“But capable of their best efforts almost,” cried the delighted Lockyer.
There was a slight click as Ned shoved the telegraph over once more.
They could fairly feel the impulse then. As her propellers bit into the water the submarine gave a leap forward, almost like a pickerel after a plump frog.
“Jumping Jobberwocks! feel her go,” muttered Herc to old Tom Marlin, as the two stood down at the foot of the ladder, ready to transmit any messages from the conning-tower above.
Andy Bowler, the foreman, poked out a grinning face from his engine room. He was wiping his hands on a bit of waste and drawing his first free breath.