The Submarine Boys on Duty | Page 2

havin'
its war craft secrets snap-shotted," replied Jabez Holt.
"Didn't you speak of Pollard's boat?" demanded Jack, his eyes agleam
with sudden interest.
"Ye-es," admitted Mr. Holt, slowly. "A boat that'll drown its score of
men, I reckon, an' then lay somewhere an' eat itself out with rust."
"A submarine boat, isn't it?" continued Jack, quickly.
"Yep; submarine torpedo boat: One of them crazy craft that men will

build against all sense of what's decent on salt water."
"Why, I've read about that boat;" Jack ran on, eagerly. "And, from what
the newspapers said, I've gathered the idea that David Pollard's boat is
going to put the United States completely ahead of all other nations at
sea."
"That's the way Dave Pollard talks," returned Mr. Holt, grimly. "But
folks 'round Dunhaven, I must say, don't think over an' above of him or
his boat. They--"
"Oh, bother the folks around Dunhaven!" broke in Jack Benson,
impatiently. "If the place is the best they know how to do in the way of
a town, I don't care a heap about their ideas of boats. And--but I beg
your pardon, Mr. Holt. My tongue's running a bit ahead of my manners,
I guess. So this is where that famous submarine torpedo boat is being
built? And she's a diving boat, at that?"
"Well, I guess mebbe she'll dive, all right," chuckled Jabez Holt. "But
as to her comin' up again, I reckon the 'Pollard' ain't goin' to be so
certain."
"Where are they building her? Farnum's shipyard, you said?"
"Right over yonder," explained Mr. Holt, pointing to a high board fence
that enclosed a space down by the water front. Farnum's "boatyard," as
thus seen, was about an eighth of a mile from the little hotel, and
looked as though it might be considerable of a plant.
"Who's in charge of the boat?" was Jack's next question.
"Well, now, that's a conundrum," replied Jabez Holt, pondering. "Jake
Farnum owns the yard. Jake is a young man, only a few years out of
college. He inherited the business from his father, who's dead. Jake is
considered a pretty good business man, though he don't know much
'bout boats, an' can't seem to learn a heap, nuther. So Jake leans on Asa
Partridge, the superintendent, who was also superintendent under old
man Farnum. However, old man Farnum's line was building sailing

yachts, small schooners, and, once in a while, a tug-boat. That's in Asa
Partridge's line, but he won't have nothin' much to do with new
schemes like diving torpedo boats."
"Then--" hinted Jack.
"I'm a-comin' on with the yarn," replied Jabez Kolt, patiently. "Now,
Dave Pollard, the inventor of the boat, is a powerful bright young man,
on theory, some folks says, but he ain't much use with tools in his
hands. But he an' young Jake Farnum hang 'round, watching and
bossing, and they have a foreman of the gang, Joshua Owen, who
knows he knows most everything 'bout buildin' any kind of boat. So,
barrin' the fussing of Farnum and Pollard, I guess Josh Owen is the real
boss of the job, since the riveters' gang came an' put the hull together,
an' went away."
"Then I suppose Mr. Owen--" began Jack.
"Ja-a-abez! Jabez Holt! Come here!" rang a shrill, feminine voice from
the interior of the hotel.
"Must be goin', for a few minutes, anyway," grunted Jabez, rising and
leaving the two boys. But no sooner was he out of sight than Jack
Benson turned upon his chum, his eyes ablaze.
"Hal Hastings," he effused, in a low voice, "I had forgotten that
Dunhaven was the home of the Pollard boat. But, since it is, and since
we're here--why, here we'd better stay."
"Do you think we can get in on that job?" asked Hal, dubiously.
"Not if we just sit around and wonder, or if we go meekly and ask for a
job, and turn sadly away when we're refused," retorted Jack Benson,
with a vim that was characteristic of him. "Hal, my boy, we're simply
going to shove ourselves into jobs in that boatyard, and we're going to
have a whack at the whole game of building and fitting out a submarine
torpedo boat. Do you catch the idea? We're just going to hustle
ourselves into the one job that would suit us better than anything else

on earth!"
"Bully!" agreed Hal, wistfully. "I hope you can work it."
"We can," returned his chum, spiritedly. "Team work, you know. We've
worked around machine shops, and at other trades, and we know
something about the way boats are handled. Why shouldn't we be able
to make Farnum and Pollard believe we know something that will be of
use to them?"
"I guess the foreman is the one we want to see, first