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The Submarine Boys' Lightning Cruise Part 10

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groaned the s.h.i.+pbuilder, to himself. "We are willing to play fair to the last gasp. No doubt some of the other competing submarine builders feel the same way about it. Yet, with so many rivals in the field, there are sure to be one or two rascally fellows who won't consider any trick too low to give them an advantage."

Though Mr. Farnum had no particular rival, or rivals, in mind, his fears, as was afterwards proven, were only too well founded.

"Take the wheel, please, Mr. Farnum," Jack, begged. He ran down the steps to call:

"On deck, Biffens!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" replied the sailor, scrambling to obey.

Jack was out on the platform deck, megaphone in hand, by the time that his employer ran up rather close to the "Chelsea."

"Will you direct us to our moorings, sir?" Jack shouted to the watch officer aboard the gunboat.

"Proceed slowly east. Our launch will follow and show you your moorings," came the reply. Then the launch glided around the stern of the gunboat, leading the way.

Ten minutes later the "Benson" and the "Hastings" were moored, at the extreme eastern end of the line of submarine craft.

Then Hal, mopping his face from the engine room heat, came up on deck for a breath of air.

"I don't suppose we can get ash.o.r.e," murmured young Hastings, gazing wistfully at the city beyond.

"No," muttered Jack, shaking his head. "We're short-handed as it is, and we've got to be on hand to watch these boats. There are too many of the enemy about, in the shape of rival builders and their employees, and among them there may be some mean tricksters who'd do anything in their power to put the Pollard boats out of the running in the tests to come. No; I reckon we won't see much of the sh.o.r.e, except from our decks, though it is mighty cramped and confining on one of these small craft."

Hal took a couple of turns up and down the deck. No one, until he has tried it, can realize how cramped such small craft are when one has to remain any length of time aboard.

Suddenly Hal paused, pointing landward.

"Great Scott!" he gasped. "Look who's here!"

A roomy whaleboat was approaching them. In it, as pa.s.sengers, sat Grant Andrews, foreman, and five workmen from the home yard.

"What can have happened?" wondered Captain Jack, as he and his chum waved their hands in greeting; then stood staring.

"Surprised, eh, lads?" laughingly demanded Jacob Farnum, who had stolen up behind them.

"Yes; what's wrong?" asked Jack.

"Nothing," replied the s.h.i.+pbuilder.

"Then what are Andrews and the other men doing here?"

"Do you notice," hinted Mr. Farnum, "that the men with Andrews are all picked from among our older, trusted s.h.i.+pyard men."

"Yes, sir. That's true."

"Well, in the first place," pursued Farnum, "if any sudden repairs, fixings or other work are required in a hurry, while we're here, we have a fine lot of our own men to attend to it. Before leaving I told Grant to bring these men with him. Then they'll serve another purpose.

I want you youngsters to be keyed up to your best performances all the time we're here. That you can't do if you're kept confined closely aboard until your very souls ache. So, as much of the time as is wise, you young fellows will be ash.o.r.e, stretching your legs, and Grant Andrews and his men will be on board as guards."

"That's great!" glowed Jack. "And mighty considerate of you, too, sir."

"Considerate? Not a bit of it!" retorted Jacob Farnum, half indignantly.

"Jack Benson, I want to drain the last bit of performance out of you youngsters that I possibly can while we're here. That's why I am going to take some good care of you, also. Right this way, Grant!"

The hail was directed at the foreman. The whaleboat put in alongside of the "Benson," and the foreman with two of his men came aboard.

"And now, everyone else over the side to go ash.o.r.e!" called the s.h.i.+pbuilder.

This order was quickly obeyed. Then the whaleboat continued on over to the "Hastings," where Eph and his companions were taken off and the remaining three workmen from the home yard left aboard as guards.

Mr. Farnum had already ascertained that the naval board which was to be in charge of the tests was quartered at the leading hotel on sh.o.r.e.

Hence, in landing, the s.h.i.+pbuilder was really killing two birds with a single stone, as he intended to report at once to the head of the board for whatever instructions the latter had to give.

"We may as well go up, to the hotel in style," announced Mr. Farnum, when the entire party, the naval lieutenant included, had landed at the wharf. The two sailors, Ewald and Biffens, had already gone away to places of their own choosing.

There were three or four automobiles for hire near the wharf. Two of these Mr. Farnum engaged for his own party. In five minutes more they stood about in the handsome lobby of the Somerset House while their host registered for the party.

Jack, Hal and Eph stood at ease, some distance from the men of the party.

Despite their easy att.i.tudes there was yet a certain military erectness about them which was heightened by the handsome, natty uniforms that they wore.

At the further end of the hotel lobby was a doorway before which stood a folding screen. Past that was a clump of potted palms.

Behind the palms stood a man who, once seen, was not likely to be forgotten. He was not a handsome man. About fifty years of age, he was unusually stout; and, though his clothing was of expensive texture, it fitted him badly. On his upper lip was a heavy moustache, now iron-gray. His face was red, almost bloated. There were heavy pouches under his eyes that told of many hours of senseless, vicious dissipation.

A small wart on the left side of the man's nose emphasized his lack of good looks. Though the face was large, the eyes were small, beady, and often full of cunning. There was some iron-gray hair at each side of the head; the top was bald.

This man was John C. Rhinds, head of the Rhinds Submarine Company. Three of the boats now at anchor in Groton Bay were his--or, rather, his company's, though John Rhinds owned nearly all of the stock in the company.

So far, Rhinds had not succeeded in selling a submarine craft to the Navy Department. Twice he had been on the point of a sale, but each time the government had decided upon a Pollard boat, instead.

John C. Rhinds loved money. He was resolved, at any cost, to make the government buy several of his boats. And he was utterly unscrupulous.

As he stood behind the palms, looking toward the group of new arrivals, Rhinds's little eyes seemed to grow smaller. He knew the members of this party, though none of them as yet knew Rhinds. But the cunning man had made it his business to find out all about the people whom he hoped to beat in the coming game.

"Here you are, Radwin!"

Mr. Rhinds almost hissed the summons, calling to his side a man of some thirty years of age, tall, dark, handsome, slender and wearing his fine clothes with an air of distinction.

At first glance one would be inclined to like the appearance of Fred Radwin. A closer study of the somewhat s.h.i.+fty eyes and general reckless expression might have turned one skilled in human nature against Mr.

Fred Radwin, who was secretary to the Rhinds Company.

"That's the crowd, right over there, that have sold two boats under our noses to the Navy Department," continued Rhinds, a snarl framing about his thick, ugly lips. "That's the crowd we've got to beat."

"Then those young chaps must be the three young submarine officers with such fine records," remarked Fred Radwin, in an undertone.

"They are," nodded Rhinds, slowly. "They're bright youngsters, too. I wish we had them on our side."

"Couldn't they be lured over into our employ, then?" asked Radwin.

"You don't know the youngsters. They're full of fool notions about loyalty to the Farnum Pollard crowd. And, besides, the boys have an interest in the rival company."

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The Submarine Boys' Lightning Cruise Part 10 summary

You're reading The Submarine Boys' Lightning Cruise. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Victor G. Durham. Already has 623 views.

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