E-text prepared by Jim Ludwig
Note: This is book two of eight of the Submarine Boys Series.
THE SUBMARINE BOYS TRIAL TRIP
"Making Good" as Young Experts
by
VICTOR G. DURHAM
1909
CONTENTS
CHAPTERS
I. A Big Cloud on the Submarine Horizon
II. A Submarine Stunt that Dumfounds the Beholders
III. Mr. Melville Hurls the Crash
IV. A Squall in an Office
V. Don Melville Takes a Hand
VI. The "Pollard" has a Rival
VII. Missing--A Submarine and Crew
VIII. Farnum Stock Goes Up
IX. A Rascally Piece of Work
X. A Race for Mixed Prizes
XI. What Befell, the Real Benson
XII. The Capitalist Doesn't Likes the Situation
XIII. On trial as Young Experts
XIV. Fooling the Navy, But Only Once
XV. Serving in the Cause of Peace, Not War
XVI. Fighting a Mutiny with Threats
XVII. Jack Perpetrates a Practical Sea Joke
XVIII. Eph Enjoys Being Rescued
XIX. Jack Stumbles Upon a Big Surprise
XX. Conclusion
CHAPTER I
A BIG CLOUD ON THE SUBMARINE HORIZON
"At what time did you say that the 'Pollard' was due to be back, Mr.
Farnum?"
"At two o'clock," replied the owner of the boat-building yard at the
little seaport town of Dunhaven.
"It's within five minutes of that hour, now."
"So it is," nodded the owner of the yard, after briefly consulting his
watch.
For half an hour, or a little longer, a middle aged man, with the world
of business and large affairs imprinted on him, had been walking to and
fro along the shore end of the yard. In this walk he was accompanied by
his son, a handsome, dark-eyed and dark-haired young fellow of nineteen.
George Melville, the father, was attired very much as any prosperous,
busy man might have been, with a touch of fastidiousness added, but the
son, Don, was dressed and groomed to look just what he wanted to appear
to be, the born young aristocrat.
"Punctuality is one of the cardinal virtues with me, you know," continued
Mr. Melville, impatiently, as he again glanced at his watch. "I had
hoped to be able to see your submarine boat, the 'Pollard,' this
afternoon."
"And I certainly hope you will be able to," replied Jacob Farnum,
cordially. This builder, a young man in his thirties, allowed a shade
of uneasiness to flit across his face.
"However, when Don is in command of the boat," continued Mr. Melville,
"things will doubtless be run on a better system. That is, if we
should decide to invest the money and place Don on board as captain."
"Your son?" inquired Jacob Farnum, with a quick note of astonishment in
his voice.
"Certainly," continued Mr. Melville, in the easy voice of one who is sure
of his ground. "If my friends and myself decide to invest the required
several hundred thousand dollars in your business, the first step of the
reorganization on a broader basis will be the placing of my son in
command of your boat."
"Hm!" murmured Jacob Farnum.
"Don is wholly fitted for learning the work that I have cut out for him,"
pursued Mr. Melville. "He has frequently taken command of my steam
yacht, the '_Greyhound_,' and my sailing master, Captain Carson, assures
me that Don is not only a splendid sailor, but born to command. So,
after a little time spent in mastering details, Don will make the ideal
captain for the 'Pollard'."
"I have a very capable young man in charge now," said Mr. Farnum.
"Captain Jack Benson has already done a few things with the boat that
have astonished Naval officers."
"How old is this fellow Benson?" inquired Mr. Melville.
"Sixteen."
"Only sixteen?" queried Mr. Melville, in a voice of amazement. "Bah!
He is entirely too young to be entrusted with the hopes of such a great
boat-building company as I hope to help you organize. Don, too, is
quite young, but he has a great deal of capacity and has had a valuable
lot of experience. As to a boy of sixteen--however, your youth,
Benson, may no doubt be retained aboard as a member of the crew, if
Don likes him. And now, sir, it's two minutes of two."
With another impatient frown Mr. Melville held his watch out before Mr.
Farnum's eyes. That younger man hardly saw the dial. He was looking
past, out beyond the mouth of the little cove or harbor. As he did so,
Mr. Farnum beheld what, at first, looked like a big ripple spreading
over the placid water. Then the top of a steel conning tower shot up
into sight. It was followed by the emergence of the upper hull of a
strange looking cigar-shaped craft.
"Two minutes before the hour, did you say?" asked Jacob Farnum, placidly.
"Well, there's the 'Pollard,' just up from the depths, and gliding in
to anchorage."
Don Melville had strolled away from the pair, but now, at a call from
his father, he turned to watch the oncoming craft, which was none other
than the new submarine torpedo boat, the "Pollard."
The elder Melville was judge enough of boats and of boat-handling to
understand that the submarine was being brought into harbor in a very
clever, seamanlike manner.
"She's still running under electric power, you know," explained Mr.
Farnum. "The distance is so short that Captain Benson doesn't consider
it worth while to start the gasoline engine."
Now, the boat came to a stop, with a slight reversing of her propellers.
At this moment the manhole cover of the conning tower was raised. Out
onto the platform deck surrounding the tower Captain Jack Benson nimbly
stepped. As he took the wheel in the open, the craft glided on with
hardly perceptible motion to a mooring buoy a few yards distant. Out
hopped another boy, in dark blue naval uniform and visored cap. This
youth, Eph Somers, ran nimbly forward over the hull. At just the right
instant Eph bent over, securing the forward tackle to the buoy, then
straightened up, saluting the young captain, as he called:
"Single tackle all fast, sir."
Now, a third boy, in uniform similar to those worn by the other two,
sprang out through the manhole. Hal Hastings, who had remained behind
to shut off the electric motor, waved his cap to Mr. Farnum.
"Well done, Captain Benson and crew!" shouted Jacob Farnum, heartily,
across the water.
"It won't take you long to be able to beat that performance, I take it,
Don," smiled the elder Melville at his Son. Don's upper lip curled just
perceptibly. Jacob Farnum frowned slightly, as he turned his face away.
It would not do to offend George Melville without cause, for that
gentleman was considering the raising of six or seven hundred thousand
dollars of additional working capital for the making of submarine boats.
"We're coming aboard, captain," added Mr. Farnum, shouting between his
hands, across the water. "Everything ship-shape for inspection?"
"Aye, aye, sir!" Captain Jack responded.
"It was a shame, really, to ask that question," laughed Mr. Farnum,
turning to his companions. "Benson was all but born aboard a boat, and
he's a genuine old maid for having things aboard in apple-pie order.
His two friends are just like him in that respect."
Upon being signaled two workmen of the yard came hastily down to the
water's edge. They seated themselves at the oars of a large yawl, while
Mr. Farnum and his guests stepped into the boat.
"Give way, and lay us alongside of the 'Pollard,'" directed the
boatbuilder.
Captain Jack, Hal Hastings and Eph Somers still remained standing at
ease on the platform deck of the submarine craft. They were but a few
weeks older than when they appeared before the readers of the first
volume in this series, "_The Submarine Boys On Duty_." Readers of that
volume are familiar with the story of how Jack Benson and Hal Hastings
appeared in Dunhaven; how they made the acquaintance, first of David
Pollard, the submarine's inventor, and then of Jacob Farnum, the boat's
builder and financial backer. Readers of the first volume also remember
how Eph Somers appeared unexpectedly on the scene, and just how he
coolly put himself into the submarine picture, securing his place
aboard that wonderful craft. Those who read the first volume are
familiar with the way in which the boys met and vanquished the savage
hostility of Josh Owen and Dan Jaggers; they remember the desperate
battle, in the ocean's depths, with the crazy boatswain's mate. They
recall the dashing, laughable prank that Captain Jack played on one of
the big battleships of the Naval maneuvers fleet, and remember the
pretty romance, in which the submarine boys aided greatly, through
which Mr. Farnum secured beautiful Grace Desmond as his bride. Our
readers who have pored over the pages of the preceding volume, in fact,
will recall all the many adventures through which Jack, Hal and Eph
passed with daring and credit.
All the people in the world move forward--or 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. If he says so, then I'll unlock it
with pleasure."
"Benson," retorted Don Melville, again trying to disconcert the young
captain with a stare of cold insolence, "I guess you don't understand
quite who I am."
"If I don't, I shall be glad to be enlightened," laughed Jack, softly.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the son of the man who expects to put a big amount of capital into
this enterprise. Farnum wants my father to do it."
"Then I hope your father does," nodded Jack Benson, with a look of polite
interest.
"Of course, in that case," pursued Don, "the whole business will be
reorganized."
"I should imagine so," nodded Jack.
"And, as a part of that reorganization, I'm to have command of the
'Pollard,' and of any other boats that may be built here!"
Captain Jack Benson's face blanched in an instant. He did not falter,
but he felt, for the moment, as though he had been stabbed to the heart.
Hal Hastings gave a little, barely perceptible gasp. Eph Somers, with
a snort of wrath, turned and stepped through into the motor room.
"I'm to command this boat, and the others that may be built; that's one
of my father's conditions in putting up the required capital," continued
Don Melville. "Of course, I shall select my own helpers and crews. If
you three are really competent, and show sufficient respect for authority
over you, I may be able to provide some sort of places for you aboard
this boat and the new one that's being built. Now, do you understand
who I am?"
"I've heard all you said," replied Captain Jack, dully. He was so dazed,
so tormented, that, for the moment, he did not dare trust himself to make
more of a reply.
"Don!" called the elder Melville, briskly. "We're going on shore now.
You'd better leave your further studies aboard until to-morrow."
"Good-bye, then, lads," said Don Melville, laying a hand on the nickeled
railing of the spiral stairway leading up through the conning tower. He
spoke with a trace more of cordiality as he started up the steps: "When
I come aboard next I trust there will be no misunderstanding of new
facts."
Jack Benson still stood by the little cabin table, resting one hand on
it. His eyes were turned toward the floor, his chest heaving. The blow
had struck him like a bolt from a clear, sunny sky!
"That cold duffer coming aboard to boss us all around like cattle?" burst
from Eph Somers, as he stamped out from the engine room.
"Confound it!" growled Hal Hastings, savagely. "I don't believe the yarn.
Do you?"
"I'm half afraid," replied Captain Jack, raising his eyes, "that I do."