THE EVIL GENIUS OF THE WATER FRONT
It was nearly eight in the evening when the three craft were snug at anchor.
The bay was a small one, hardly worthy of the name. The only inhabited part of the shore thereabouts consisted of the fishing village known as Blair's Cove, a settlement containing some forty houses.
Hardly had all been made snug aboard the "Farnum" when Jack, standing on the platform deck after the cadets had been transferred to the "Hudson" for the night, saw a small boat heading out from shore.
"Is that one of the new submarine crafts?" hailed a voice from the bow of the boat.
"Yes, sir," Jack answered, courteously.
No more was said until the boat had come up alongside.
"I thought maybe you'd be willing to let me have a look over a craft of this sort," said the man in the bow. He appeared to be about forty years of age, dark-haired and with a full, black beard. The man was plainly though not roughly dressed; evidently he was a man of some education.
"Why, I'm mighty sorry, sir," Captain Jack Benson replied. "But I'm afraid it will be impossible to allow any strangers on board during this cruise."
"Oh, I won't steal anything from your craft,", answered the stranger, laughingly. "I won't be inquisitive, either, or go poking into forbidden corners. Who's your captain?"