The Submarine Boys and the Spies | Page 6

Submarine Boys' Trial Trip."
Almost instantly the manhole cover was thrown open. Jack Benson,
natty as a tailor's model, in his newest uniform, stepped out on deck,
waving his hand to the gunboat.
"You'll have to consider that we got you, won't you, sir?" shouted the
young submarine captain.
Then, both on shore and on the decks of many craft, a realization of
what had happened dawned in the minds of thousands of people at
about the same instant. A great, combined cheer shot up--a cheer that
was a vocal cyclone!
CHAPTER II
TROUBLE IN THE MAKING STAGE
On the hurricane deck of the "Waverly" stood one man, mouth wide
open and eyes a-stare, who couldn't seem to get the meaning of it all.
That man was the leader of the combined band from the winter hotels.
Turning, glancing upward, the lieutenant looked at the leader with a
glance of cool wonder.
"Play, man! Why don't you play? What are you there for?"
Then, all of a sudden, reddening, the band leader rapped his music

stand with his baton, next gave the signal, and the band crashed forth
into the exultant strains of:
"See! The Conquering Hero comes!"
At the third measure the band was all but drowned out by renewed
cheering, that came more uproariously than ever.
Captain Jack Benson had surely chosen a dramatic manner of making
his appearance at Spruce Beach. Ten thousand tongues were set
wagging all at once. When there came a lull, a man's voice on a tug not
far from the gunboat could be heard, asserting loudly:
"Well, that's what submarines are for--to sneak in while you're wiping a
speck of dust from your eye!"
That remark, coming just as the band ceased its strains, was plainly
audible, and brought a laugh from everyone aboard the submarine,
including Eph, who was just climbing, in his bathing suit, up to the
platform deck.
Lieutenant Commander Kimball, hurrying from his cabin, had joined
Lieutenant Featherstone at the rail, the pretty girl slipping away to join
a group of civilians.
"What do you think of us?" called Jacob Farnum, a broad grin of
delight on his face.
"You'll do," admitted Kimball.
"Do you consider yourself sunk?" demanded David Pollard, laughingly.
"Theoretically, yes," assented Lieutenant Commander Kimball. "I
wonder if you could do it as well in war time?"
"Couldn't possibly do anything like it in war time," called back Captain
Jack Benson. "For, sir, you fly the Stars and, Stripes!"
That was a happy speech, delivered at just the right second. It set all

within hearing to cheering again. And then the thousands beyond
caught it up.
"I'll say this much," shouted back Lieutenant Commander Kimball, as
soon as he could make himself heard: "We'd rather have you with us,
Mr. Benson, than against us."
"You'll have your wish, sir, as long as I'm alive," Jack answered,
turning and lifting his hat in simple yet eloquent salute to the Flag
waving at the gunboat's stern.
All this time Hal Hastings stood by the deck wheel, one hand
occasionally straying to the engine room signal buttons, as he kept the
"Benson" just about a hundred feet from the gunboat and nearly abeam.
"Where shall I anchor, sir?" called Captain Jack, presently.
"Better take it about four points off our port bow and at least four
hundred feet away, Mr. Benson," called back the lieutenant
commander.
"Four points off port and four hundred feet it is, sir," answered the
young submarine skipper, saluting. Then he gave the order to Hal.
"As soon as you're anchored, I'll send you over a boat to be at your
disposal this afternoon," called Lieutenant Commander Kimball.
"We'll use the boat, sir, to pay you a visit, if you permit," Jack shouted
back.
"By all means come aboard. Then we'll visit you. We're anxious to see
the works of such a wonderful little craft."
Within ten minutes a man-o-war's cutter was alongside, rowed by six
alert-looking young sailors, while a coxswain held the tiller ropes.
Messrs. Farnum and Pollard, Jack and Hal made up the visiting party,
leaving Eph Somers aboard the submarine, with Williamson to help
him at need.

Cordial, indeed, was the reception of the submarine folks aboard the
gunboat. There was a great amount of handshaking to be done.
In the meantime, Eph Somers was having something in the way of
trouble back on the platform deck of the "Benson."
Two small boats, manned by harbor boatmen, and each carrying a few
passengers, had put off from shore, and now ranged alongside.
"How do you do, Captain?" shouted a young man at the bow of one of
the boats.
"Louder!" begged Eph.
"How do you do, Captain?"
"Louder. I'm afraid the captain can't hear you yet," grinned the
carroty-topped submarine boy. "He's over