backward--a bit every
day. And so, while, our young friends were still aboard the "Pollard,"
and happy, affairs were shaping that might alter the whole current of
their lives, their ambitions and their hopes. Convinced that he could, by
the use of sufficient energy and capital, equip a larger yard and sell the
United States Government a solid, efficient fleet of submarine torpedo
boats that would constitute a fearful menace on the waves--or under
them--to any foreign foe, Jacob Farnum had now begun to look about
for the necessary capital with which to expand what he believed to be a
highly promising business.
Thus it happened that the two Melvilles now came upon the scene. The
elder possessed a good deal of spare money, and could influence
several business friends into investing heavily. It was George Melville's
habit to acquire control, gradually, of any business in which he invested
heavily. He had wonderful skill in that line of conduct, and combined
much tact with it. Mr. Melville, going into a new business, and
contributing capital heavily, was accustomed to securing whole control
of the business before his associates quite realized what was happening.
Now, as this capitalist climbed up the side and stood on the platform
deck, looking about him, he began to picture himself as selling a fleet
of such boats--all of them practically his--to the Government.
"Not much of a place, this deck, to stand on and handle a vessel
through rough weather?" he inquired, looking sharply at Mr. Farnum.
"No," admitted the builder, adding with a smile: "Of course, it takes the
cream of our seafaring men to travel in such craft, anyway. Such men
can stand discomfort and any amount of danger, at need. Ask Captain
Benson."
Young Captain Jack smiled quietly. He and his two comrades guessed
that George Melville was one of the capitalists whom Farnum was
trying to interest in the business.
"Let us go below," suggested Mr. Melville. "Don, use your eyes to
good advantage. You may have need of all you can learn about such
boats."
Don Melville inclined his head, but said nothing. Farnum led them
below. Captain Jack helped the builder in explaining the general
working details of the boat. Hal and Eph answered such questions as
were put to them by father or son.
"It's all very interesting," said Mr. Melville, slowly, at last. "Farnum, let
us go up on deck a few minutes. Don, you might remain below. I have
no doubt there is still much that you want to see."
So Don remained below. The boys of the submarine's crew, feeling that
Mr. Farnum would want to be alone with his guest, also remained
below.
"Do you--er--like this sort of thing, Benson?" asked Don Melville.
"The submarine boat work, you mean?" asked Captain Jack, brightly.
"Why, it's my life--my very life!"
The glow that came to the cheeks of the young submarine captain bore
out his words fully. Jack did love this fine craft. He gloried in having
the command of her, though he never made the weight of his authority
felt by his two comrades, who, indeed, virtually shared in the command.
Captain Benson was especially proud and grateful at the confidence
shown in himself and in his mates in being allowed full charge of the
"Pollard." Love the life? It wouldn't be life, for him, without the
"Pollard!"
Don began to ask some further questions about the boat. His tone was
slightly supercilious. It was plain to be seen that he looked upon these
daring, tried and proven youngsters as being decidedly his inferiors.
Yet Jack fought against a growing feeling of irritation, giving
good-humored and attentive answers.
Then Don went over to the little door of a compartment in the wall.
Behind this door was some of the delicate mechanism--invention of
David Pollard--by means of which the compressed air supply was
better regulated than on any other type of submarine craft.
"Why, this place is locked," observed Don.
"Yes," nodded Captain Jack.
"You have the key?"
"I--I believe so."
"Then be good enough to unlock this little door," ordered Don Melville.
"I hope you'll pardon me," said Captain Jack, quickly, yet politely. "It
wouldn't be just the thing for me to do."
"Why not?" Don shot at him, coldly.
"Well--because I've no orders from Mr. Farnum to that effect.
Because--well, behind that little door are a few mechanisms that
amount to about the most important secret about the boat."
"Then you refuse to unlock that little door?" demanded Don, coldly,
trying to disconcert the young captain by a steady, cold look into his
eyes.
"Oh, no; I don't refuse," answered young Benson, in the same cool,
pleasant tone. "But the order should come from Mr. Farnum. He's right
overhead. You can call up to him.
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