“We get that from living in the fresh h’air,” remarked Tom in a low voice to Jack who, like the rest of the submarine’s crew, was on the broad grin at the British skipper’s indignant explanation.
“If you young men will go below and start the engines we’ll run alongside and pay for the damage we’ve done,” said Mr. Chadwick. “We don’t want to become entangled in any international complications.”
As the boys dived below, followed by Mr. Dancer, they heard the British captain confiding to Mr. Chadwick that a “good spanking would do them kids a lot of good.”
With her propellers moving at slow speed, the whale-like form of the submarine was ranged up alongside the big, black bulk of the British ship. Mr. Chadwick handed up a roll of bills to the skipper of the old craft and expressed his regret over the accident.
“H’ih, that’s all right,” grinned the seaman with airy good nature as he counted the money with a wetted thumb, “h’it h’aint h’everybody wot gets bumped by a submarine, guv’ner. It’ll be a rare yarn ter tell the moites when h’I gets back to h’old h’England.”
Shortly afterward the submarine was put at full speed and headed for the shore. The return voyage was made without incident and soon after darkness had fallen, the odd craft lay once more at her moorings just outside the construction shed.
To reach the shore they tumbled into a small boat that had been left at the moorings, and with long, strong strokes Silas wielded the oars. As the bow of the boat grazed the piles of the landing place, Mr. Chadwick, his face glowing, turned to the inventor.
“Dancer, let me congratulate you on a brilliant success.”
“I reckon the boys here have contributed as much to it as I have,” he said dryly.
“I wish we could get a chance to take a really long cruise on the White Shark,” sighed Jack, hurrying on to prevent more compliments from the grateful inventor.