"Yet Mr. Pollard recommended him," urged Jack.
"Yes, and a fine fellow Dave Pollard is—true as steel," put in Hal Hastings, quietly. "Yet you know what a dreamer he is. Always has his head in the air and his thoughts among the stars. He'd as like as not take a fellow like Truax on the fellow's own say-so, and never think of looking him up."
"Oh, we've no reason to think Truax isn't honest enough," contended Jack Benson. "He's certainly a fine workman. As to his being sulky, you know well enough that's a common fault among men who spend their lives listening to the noise of great engines. A man who can't make himself heard over the noise of a big engine hasn't much encouragement to talk. Now, a man who can't find much chance to talk becomes sulky a good many times out of ten."
"We'll have trouble with that fellow, Truax, yet," muttered Eph.
"Oh, I hope not," Jack answered, then added, significantly:
"If he does start any trouble he may find that he has been trifling with the wrong crowd!"
Very little more thought was given to the sulky one. The submarine boys and their companion, Williamson, enjoyed Saturday and Sunday ashore.
All of them might have felt disturbed, however, had they known of one thing that happened.
The naval machinists aboard the first submarine boat, the "Pollard," now owned by the United States Government, found something slightly out of order with the "Pollard's" engine that they did not know exactly how to remedy.
Sam Truax, hanging around the Basin that Sunday forenoon, was called upon. He gladly responded to the call for help. For four hours he toiled along in the "Pollard's" engine room. Much of that time he spent there alone.