The Submarine Boys Lightning Cruise | Page 2

torpedo. An
officer of the United States Navy, especially detailed for the work, was
expected hourly at Dunhaven. The three submarine boys were eager for
their first taste of this work. Barely less interested were Jacob Farnum,
shipbuilder, and president of the submarine company, and David
Pollard, inventor of the Pollard type of submarine craft.
In this shed, placed on racks in three tiers, lay the two dozen Whitehead
torpedoes with which the first work was to be done. As Jack stepped
about the shed, looking to see that everything was in order, he was
thinking of the exciting work soon to come.
Eph Somers was near at hand, though up in the village at that particular
moment. There was a fourth member of the crew, however, named
Williamson. He was a grown man, a machinist who had been long in

Farnum's employ, and who was considered a most valuable hand to
have in the engine room of a submarine.
Williamson, during the preceding fortnight, had been away in the
interior of the country. He had taken a midwinter vacation, and had
gone to visit his mother. Now, however, the machinist knew of the
work at hand, and his return was expected.
"Really," declared Jack, turning around to his chum, "Williamson ought
to be here not later than to-morrow morning. He had Mr. Farnum's
letter in good season."
At this moment a heavy tread was heard on the light crust of snow
outside. Then a man's head appeared in the doorway.
"Speaking of angels!" laughed Hal.
"Williamson, I'm mighty glad to see you back," hailed Captain Jack,
delightedly.
"I'm glad to be back, if there's anything unusual going to happen,"
replied the machinist, as they shook hands all around. Then, as they fell
to chatting, the machinist seated himself on a keg, the top of which was
about half off, revealing, underneath, a layer of jute bagging.
"We're going to have some great practice work," declared Hal, moving
about. "We're just waiting for that Navy man, and then we're going out
on the new submarine--the one that's named after me, you know."
Out in the little harbor beyond rode at anchor two grim-looking little
torpedo boats, each about one hundred and ten feet long. The older one
was named the "Benson," after Captain Jack. But the latest one to be
launched, which had had its full trial trip only some few days before,
bore the name of "Hastings" after the capable young chief engineer of
the Pollard boats.
Both of the boys, by this time, happened to be looking away from the
machinist. Williamson, in utter unconcern, drew a pipe out of one of

his pockets, filled it, and stuck the stem between his lips. Next, he
struck a safety match, softly, against the side of the match-box, and
lighted his pipe, drawing in great whiffs.
"Just how far does this practice go!" inquired the machinist, still sitting
on the keg and smoking contentedly.
At that moment Captain Jack Benson caught, in his nostrils, the scent
of burning tobacco.
In an instant a steely glitter shone in the young captain's eyes. Firm,
strong lines appeared about his mouth. All that part of the face showed
white and pallid. Just a second or two later Hal Hastings also turned.
Like a flash his lower jaw dropped, as though the hinge thereof had
broken.
When Captain Jack's voice came to him it sounded low, yet hard and
metallic. One would have wondered whether he had suddenly become
ugly.
"Williamson," he directed, "just step outside and see if Eph is there!"
Hardly noting the unusual ring in the young commander's voice, the
machinist, still with the pipe-stem between his teeth, rose and walked
out into the open. With an almost inarticulate yell Captain Jack Benson
leaped after him, striking the man in the back and sending him spinning
a dozen feet beyond.
Hal Hastings, too, dashed through the door way; then paused, grasping
the edge of the door and shutting it with a bang.
"What on earth do you mean by knocking a fellow down like that?"
demanded the machinist, angrily, leaping to his feet and wheeling about,
leaving the lighted pipe on the snowcrust.
"Look at the sign on this door," ordered Hal Hastings, pointing to the
big white letters.

"Danger, eh?" asked Williamson, speaking more quietly. "Well, that
door was open and swung back when I came along, so I couldn't see
any warning. But what is there in the shed that's so mighty dangerous?"
"What do you suppose is in the half-open keg that you were sitting on?"
demanded Captain Jack, rather hoarsely.
"What!" queried the machinist, curiously.
"The head of that keg is half off," Jack continued. "Now, if any sparks
from your pipe had dropped down and set the bagging afire--well,