Hal and Eph stood supporting their comrade, almost holding him, in fact. Jacob Farnum leaped from his automobile. Lieutenant Commander Mayhew followed him.
"Liquor, eh?" exclaimed the naval officer, the odor reaching his nostrils.
"No such thing," retorted Farnum, turning upon the officer. "At least,
Jack Benson has been drinking no such stuff."
"It was only a guess," murmured Mr. Mayhew, apologetically. "You know your young man better than I do, Mr Farnum."
"There is liquor on his clothing," continued the shipbuilder. "It looks as though someone had assaulted the lad, laid him out, and then sprinkled him. It's a wasted trick, though. I know him too well to be fooled by any such clumsy bit of nonsense."
"A stupid trick, indeed," agreed Lieutenant Commander Mayhew, but the naval officer did not quite share the shipbuilder's confidence in the submarine boy's innocence. Mr. Mayhew had known of too many cases of naval apprentices ruined through weak indulgence in liquor. Indeed, he had even known of rare instances in which cadets had been dismissed from the Naval Academy for the same offense. The lieutenant commander's present doubt of Jack Benson was likely to work to that young man's disadvantage later on.
Others of the party left the auto. Hal and Mr. Farnum got into the tonneau, supporting Jack there between them. Thus they carried him to Mr. Farnum's office at the yard, Grant Andrews then going in the car after a doctor, while the others stretched Jack on the office sofa. The naval officers returned to the "Hudson," at anchor in the little harbor below.
"The young man acts as though he had been struck on the head," was the physician's verdict. "No bones of the skull are broken. The odor of liquor is on his coat, but I can't seem to detect any on the breath."
"Of course you can't," commented Jacob Farnum, crisply. "Will Benson be fit to sail in the morning?"
"I think so," nodded the doctor. "But there ought to be a nurse with him to-night."