A WONDERFUL CRAFT.
At the foot of the stairs they found themselves within a room, narrow
and high ceiled by the curved deck above, from each side of which three
doors opened. In the center, suspended from the ceiling so as to be out
of the way when not in use, a table swung, which could be lowered when
wanted. Along the walls were folding chairs and lounges of the same
description. At one end were bookshelves containing what appeared to be
scientific works. A soft carpet was on the floor and the decorations of
the chamber were handsome, but plain and solid looking.
The light which flooded the place came from a ground-glass dome in
the ceiling. At the end of the room opposite to that occupied by the
bookshelves was a table with glittering, metallic apparatus on it. Jack
and Tom instantly recognized this as constituting an unusually complete
wireless outfit.
“Why, the _White Shark_ surely is a wonderful craft!” exclaimed Jack
delightedly, gazing about him.
Tom echoed his enthusiasm; but Mr. Dancer merely said:
“Wait; I have more, much more, to show you.”
He opened one of the doors that led off the main chamber which they had
just been examining. It disclosed a small cabin, furnished with two
Pullman bunks, one above the other.
“There are three cabins like this,” said Mr. Dancer. “Those other two
doors open into a bathroom and kitchen respectively. The last door
leads to my private cabin.”
In turn these rooms were shown. Mr. Dancer’s cabin was similar to
the others, but slightly larger. A writing desk and some scientific
instruments were within it. The kitchen proved to be a perfectly
equipped “ship’s galley,” clean and compact, and the bath room fixtures
were of the whitest porcelain, and included a fine shower bath.
“Now for the engine room,” said Mr. Dancer, when the boys had expressed
their delight over the features of the _White Shark_ they had already
seen.
He opened a metal door in the after bulkhead of the main cabin and
ushered the partially bewildered lads through it. The engine room
of the _White Shark_ was an odd looking place. Instead of pipes and
valves, wires and switches were everywhere. In the center of the metal
floor were two powerful electric motors, and at the side of each
was a dynamo which, Mr. Dancer explained, connected with the storage
batteries in which electricity was stored for practically every purpose
on the diving craft.
“I light, cook, and drive my engines by electricity,” explained their
guide; “in fact, everything on board is done by it. Even my steering
devices and aluminum diving apparatus is electrically controlled. It is
simple, takes up but little room and is always efficient.”
“Those must be very powerful engines,” ventured Tom, who had been
examining them with interest.
“They can develop more than 1500 horsepower each,” was the reply, “and
weigh but very little in comparison with their efficiency. They will
drive, or so I figure, the _White Shark_ at twenty-five miles an hour
on the surface, and might be made to develop thirty and even more miles
per hour if pushed hard.”
“But you can’t go so fast under water,” said Jack.
“No; the resistance is, of course, much greater, but I hope to do
twenty miles under the surface of the sea.”
“That will be faster than any submarine has ever gone?”
The question came from Tom.
“Yes, much faster, but then, in constructing the _White Shark_, I have
got far away from the ordinary types of diving craft.”
“What is that long snout at the bow for?” asked Jack.
“That takes the place of a conning tower. It is a sort of telescope
through which I can look out while running far under water. Near its
end are concealed two small, but very powerful, searchlights that
transform the perpetual darkness under the water to almost the light of
day.”
“But on the surface,” asked Jack, who had seen submarines before at
naval maneuvers, “don’t you use a conning tower?”
“No; we spy out our surroundings by an improved periscope, with the
general principles of which I suppose you are familiar.”
“Yes; it’s a tube that can be raised above the surface and then
reflects that surface upon a sort of desk, where the operator of the
craft can see every detail plainly.”
“That describes it roughly. And now let us visit the steering room and
the torpedo chamber. I also want to show you the submarine gun with
which the _White Shark_ is fitted.”
“This surely is a wonder ship,” gasped Tom; “a submarine gun! I suppose
we’ll be introduced to a submarine lawn-mower next.”
Passing back through the main chamber, they reached the bow. At the
front end of the conical-shaped room was what appeared to be the
mouth of a steel tube. This, the boys knew, was the lookout tube. The
inventor switched on the lights and showed the wondering lads just how
a ray of light, powerful enough to pierce the gloomy ocean depths,
could be shot out from it. He then exhibited to them the periscope
device and worked it for their benefit. By manipulating a crank the
long tube of the periscope rose from the deck above, and upon the
ground glass beneath its lower end the boys soon made out the details
of the shed outside.
Behind the periscope attachment, and so situated that it commanded
a full view from the lookout tube, was the steering apparatus. But
instead of the customary wheel all that appeared was a row of buttons
and a switch board of polished wood.
The whole contrivance was not unlike the desk of a telephone “central,”
which most of you boys must have seen. In fact, both Jack and Tom
thought it was a telephone switch board, and said so.
Mr. Dancer smiled.
“There is communication with all parts of the boat from the steersman’s
seat,” he said, “but it is by speaking tubes. I also have an automatic
annunciator which signals the engine room if I want to go fast, slow,
or to back up.”
“I noticed it when we were in the machinery section,” said Jack. “You
have the entire boat under your control from here?”
“Yes; I could, in an emergency, stop the engines from here. But what
I am most anxious to show you is my submarine gun and compressed-air
devices for sending torpedoes on their deadly missions.”
He turned to what appeared to be a steel box affixed in the bow portion
of the craft alongside the sighting tube. At one side of the box were
levers, and a chute led down to it from above.
“The torpedoes are stored overhead,” explained the inventor; “when
wanted this lever is pulled and one slides down and enters this box.
From there it is launched by compressed air, which is piped here from
the engine room. In my type of torpedo each missile carries its own
miniature engine, also propelled by compressed air. When it leaves the
side of the _White Shark_ a catch within that ‘launching box’ engages a
projection on the side of the torpedo which starts the miniature engine
in the latter.”
“And the submarine gun?” asked Jack.
“Right here. Doesn’t look much like a gun, does it?”
He indicated a cylindrical object of blued, glistening steel. To be
sure, its “breech” was like that of the accepted type of modern guns
built to handle high explosives, but its barrel was almost square and
apparently projected through the skin of the _White Shark_.
This impression was confirmed by Mr. Dancer.
“The barrel of my gun, at least that part of it which projects outside
the submarine, is composed of flexible rungs of metal, much as a
high-pressure hose is constructed; but, of course, it is many times
stronger.”
He went on to explain that this gun was capable of propelling an
explosive bullet half a mile under water, and that it could be aimed
in any direction by means of a system of levers and guiding ropes
controlled from the interior of the _White Shark_.
“But you cannot use gunpowder or dynamite in the gun,” objected Jack,
who, as we know, under the tuition of Mr. Pythias Peregrine, had become
an expert on modern gunnery.
“No; but I have substituted another force; what it is you will hardly
guess. I flatter myself that the idea is entirely original.”
“If it’s like everything else on this wonderful craft it must be,”
assented Jack warmly.
“The force that I use is nothing more nor less than steam,” responded
the inventor.
“Steam?” echoed Jack. “Why, how——”
“Wait and I’ll show you,” was the reply.
Mr. Dancer bent over the breech of the odd-looking gun and threw it
open.
“I am going to show you the most remarkable feature of the _White
Shark_,” he said.