It was while congratulations were still being showered on Jack,—for his father denied all credit save for his occasional aid in the construction of the model,—that a peculiar accident occurred.
The wires controlling the machinery of the diving torpedo boat were wound on reels, there being about two hundred feet of wire to each reel. This, of course, made it necessary to restrict the White Shark, Jr., to a limited radius of operations. Suddenly, however, instead of continuing to circle in an orderly way as the model had been doing, it darted off straight across the lake at lightning speed. Before Jack could do anything to stop it, it reached the limit of the wires, snapped them like so much thread, and was off like an arrow over the water.
It was just at this instant that Jupe pulled out in a small rowboat used for fishing—for the lake was kept stocked—from one of the small coves already mentioned. He did not see the White Shark, Jr., dashing across the pond straight at him. The party on shore yelled warnings; but Jupe, who was slightly deaf, did not hear them.
Instead he kept right on rowing.
“Wow! Look out for fireworks in about two seconds!” shouted Tom, who could not control his merriment. The others had to laugh, too.
In the meantime Jupe—supremely unconscious of the fate that was rushing down upon him at express speed—stopped rowing from some impulse and looked about him.
“Gollyumptions!” they heard him yell as he saw the model submarine racing straight at him, “by de trumpet ob Jubel, what kin’ of a fish am dat?”
“It’s a shark!” yelled Tom at the top of his lungs, “the White Shark, Jr.”
“A shark! Fo’ de Lawd! Ah’s a gone coon!” bellowed Jupe in real dismay.
“It’s a submarine!” yelled Tom in return, “get out of its way!”