Over the supper table, that evening, Captain Jack announced the scheme that had entered his mind while listening to Lieutenant McCrea.
Jacob Farnum listened, at first, somewhat thunderstruck. Then, of a sudden, he laid down his knife and fork, bursting into a roar of laughter.
"It sounds like a fearfully cheeky thing to do, I know," confessed the young captain.
"It surely is," confirmed David Pollard, nervously.
"Yet," pursued young Benson, "if the trick should succeed, how it would take the conceit out of some people who don't believe in submarines."
"Wouldn't it?" rejoined Mr. Farnum, his eyes twinkling with merriment.
"Yet you don't intend to try it, do you?" asked the inventor.
"I don't know," confessed Mr. Farnum. "But I'll admit this much—I'm certainly thinking hard over the scheme that Captain Benson has proposed."
"It would be unfortunate if we did the thing, and only succeeded in offending the officers of the Navy," pursued the inventor, an extremely thoughtful look on his pallid, thin face.
"Oh, of course, as far as the mere expense goes, I'd pay the bill for the trick," Farnum went on. "To tell the truth. Dave, the point I'm considering most now is, whether we can really successfully play the trick that Captain Benson has sprung on us."