Jacob Farnum had been no listener to this conversation. Taking the marine glasses from the conning tower, the shipbuilder was now well forward on the platform deck, scanning what was visible of the steam craft to the southward. At last the yard's owner turned around to say:
“I don't believe you young men can have things ship-shape a second too soon. The craft heading this way has a military mast forward. She must be the 'Hudson.' If there's anything to be done, hustle!”
Jack and Hal sprang below, to scan their respective [pg 031] departments. Five minutes later Grant Andrews hailed from the “Pollard,” and Eph rowed over in the shore boat to ferry over the machinists.
Half an hour later Andrews and his men had put in the few needed touches aboard the newer submarine boat. The sun, meanwhile, had gone down, showing the hull of a naval vessel some four miles off the harbor.
Darkness came on quickly, with a clouded sky. As young Benson stepped on deck Grant Andrews followed him.
“All finished here, Grant?” queried the yard's owner.
“Yes, sir. There's mighty little chance to do anything where Hal Hastings has charge of the machinery.”
“That's our gunboat out there, I think,” went on Mr. Farnum, pointing to where a white masthead light and a red port light were visible, about a mile away.
“Dunhaven must be on the map, all right, if a strange navigating officer knows how to come so straight to the place,” laughed Jack Benson.
“Oh, you trust a United States naval officer to find any place he has sailing orders for,” returned Jacob Farnum. “I wonder if he'll attempt to come into this harbor?”