The Neptune Sails
Andy was shaky from his experience over on the east side and while Bert,
Harry and Blatz went out to a show, he remained at the hotel to rest and
think things over.
He was positive that he had seen Blatz go into the warehouse and the
conviction grew that the German civilian observer was not all that he
claimed to be. Andy felt a crisis coming, something he couldn’t exactly
put into words, but a vague feeling that trouble was just around the
corner. He was asleep when the others returned at midnight from the
theater and they did not waken him.
Andy felt much refreshed the next morning and they decided to accompany
Harry on his visit to the shipyard.
“It’s the finest tin fish I’ve ever seen,” said Bert, who had visited
the Neptune the afternoon before. “They’ve got just about everything
they need in it.”
“It is a wonderful boat,” admitted Harry proudly, “but I’ll have to
confess that traveling in the Neptune won’t be able to compare with the
Goliath. When we’re submerged the air isn’t any too good if we’re down
three or four hours and we’re pretty cramped for space.”
“Let’s get under way,” said Andy. “I’m anxious to see this wonderful tin
fish.”
They took a taxi across town, rolled over the Brooklyn bridge and
fifteen minutes later were walking into the shipyard where the Neptune
was being groomed for its polar trip.
The submarine was lying beside a stubby wharf with its main hatch open.
Workmen were busy passing supplies down into its depths as Andy and his
party arrived.
“My gosh,” exclaimed Andy. “I didn’t suppose you had a submarine of this
type. It’s almost as big as one of the navy’s super-cruisers.”
“Just about,” agreed Harry. “As a matter-of-fact, this sub was built for
naval purposes by the Seabright yards. They used it as a demonstrator in
selling similar models to South American navies. It has just about every
modern gadget on it that inventors could devise. As a result of this
working model, the Seabright people landed contracts for about 25
million in work. The Neptune had served its purpose and they were
willing to sell it to Gilbert Mathews at a very reasonable figure when
he started looking for a ship in which to make the polar trip. The
Seabright engineers have made all of the necessary changes for polar
cruising and have just put their official approval on the Neptune, which
means we’ll be starting north within a few days.”
“I’d like to see inside the Neptune,” said Blatz, adding, “I’ve never
been in a submarine before.”
“All right,” agreed Harry, “but we’ll have to keep out of the way of the
crew bringing in stores Let’s go.”
They scrambled down the ladder and reached the rivet-studded deck of the
Neptune. There was a lull in the steady stream of boxes being carried
into the interior and they hurried through the main hatch and into the
conning tower, then down into the main control room.
Andy looked about in amazement at the compactness of the instruments in
the “brains” of the submarine. There was not an inch of waste space in
the spotlessly white interior of the steel fish.
Harry led them through the forward engine room and into the crew
quarters where double-decked bunks lined the walls. Just ahead were the
officers’ quarters, slightly better furnished than those of the crew and
beyond this was the radio cubby where Harry would practically live from
the time they left the Brooklyn shipyard until they returned from the
desolate ice wastes of the far north.
They went on ahead into the room usually used as a torpedo room. This
had been fitted with scientific equipment for sounding the ocean depths,
and determining the material at the bottom of the Arctic. In addition to
the scientific paraphernalia, the forward room contained the all
important rescue chambers. In this room was located the powerful drill
which was capable of boring fifty feet upward straight through the ice,
opening a tunnel large enough for a man to wriggle through in case the
submarine became trapped by ice. There was also an escape passage
through the forward torpedo tubes.
The inspection of the forward half of the sub completed, they turned to
the after quarters. Another large engine room was located after the main
control room and beyond this was another room with double-decked bunks
while just back of that was the galley.
“You’ve got a place to cook food,” said Bert, “but where do you eat?”
“Just about any place we find convenient,” replied Harry. “There are a
number of folding tables that can be pulled out in the crews’ quarters
but if the going is rough or we’re busy, we take on food when and where
we can get it.”
“When you’re pitching around on the North Atlantic and trying to connect
a little food with that hungry mouth of yours, just remember what a
pleasant time I’ll be having on the Goliath where there’s plenty of room
to stretch and plenty of room to eat,” said Bert.
“I’ll probably remember that a good many times,” grinned Harry, “but if
you radio me a description of some of those nice meals of yours. I’ll
refuse to answer.”
They completed their inspection of the Neptune and had climbed back to
the wharf when a roadster rolled through the shipyard gate.
“Just a minute, fellows,” said Harry. “Here comes Gilbert Mathews. I’d
like to have you meet him.”
The commander of the Neptune was tall and broad-shouldered. His walk was
vigorous and he was hatless. His brown hair was slightly gray at the
temples and he might be anywhere from 35 to 45 years old.
“Hello, Harry,” he said as he came up. “Your radio equipment all ready?”
“Everything’s tested and in fine shape,” replied the radio operator. “I’d
like to have you meet my friends.”
“Delighted,” said the explorer, and he greeted Blatz, Bert and Andy
cordially.
“I’ve had some very pleasant conferences with your father,” he told
Andy. “Will we meet at the North pole this summer?”
“I sincerely hope so,” replied Andy. “Bert is chief radio operator on
the Goliath and I will make the trip as assistant to Captain Harkins.”
“Then I am sure that we will meet again,” replied Mathews. He turned to
Harry.
“Did the orders reach you at your hotel before you left this morning?”
he asked.
“No sir,” replied Harry.
“Then this will come as somewhat of a surprise,” smiled Mathews. “We’ll
leave at sunrise and every member of the crew has been ordered on board
tonight.”
“It certainly is a surprise,” gasped Harry, “but I’ll be aboard ship
tonight.”
“You’re leaving almost two weeks earlier than you had first planned,”
said Andy.
“Conditions in the Arctic are more open than they have been for a number
of years,” replied the explorer, “and I am anxious to get the Neptune
into the ice as soon as possible.”
“We probably will not see you again,” said Andy, “but we wish you every
good fortune and we’ll see you at the North pole.”
“Thank you for your good wishes,” replied Mathews. “In return, I wish
the Goliath a fair voyage and a fast one.”
The explorer left them and hurried down the ladder to supervise the
final preparations for the departure of the Neptune.
Harry was busy the remainder of the day, finishing the task of getting
his kit together and sending goodbye telegrams to relatives, for his
parents lived in Illinois and would not be able to reach New York before
sailing time.
Hotel reporters learned that the assistant pilot of the Goliath was in
the city and when they returned to the hotel in late afternoon, half a
dozen were waiting for Andy.
They plied him with questions. How long would it be before the Goliath
was ready to take the air; what would the big ship do; where would it go
on its trial flights; was it true that attempts had been made to destroy
the ship in its hangar; when would it start on the cruise into the
Arctic regions?
To all these questions Andy was able to give only the most general of
answers for he was bound in secrecy not to reveal definite information
about the Goliath or the plans for its trial flights. Andy and his
friends posed while flashlights flared but finally they were alone in
their rooms.
Harry had finished the score of small tasks which had been necessary
when the final sail order, was given and he stretched out on one of the
beds, his hands clasped above his head.
“Tonight we’re all here together,” he said. “Tomorrow I’ll be going down
the sound in the tin fish; next week you’ll be aloft as the Goliath
tries its wings, and the next time we meet will be at the North pole.
Believe me, that’s adventure.”
“How I envy you all,” said Blatz, his voice low and earnest, and Andy
actually felt sorry for the European whom he had come to firmly
suspicion. If he could wipe those doubts out of his mind, he would
thoroughly like Blatz for the foreigner was a born airman and would be a
real asset to the technical staff of National Airways.
“When you sail away for the North pole in the Goliath,” he told Andy,
“I’ll stay on the ground at Bellevue and watch you fade into the north
but I’ll glory with you in success.”
“I’m hungry,” announced Bert. “Let’s go down and get something to eat.
If we sit around here we’ll all get blue for we’re going to miss Harry a
lot. There’s just this one consolation. We’ll be able to talk back and
forth daily on our low wave sets unless the Arctic puts up a wall of
static we can’t break through.”
Their last meal together was a quiet affair despite Bert’s efforts to
make it jolly and cheerful. With Harry going aboard ship within the next
hour or so and the Neptune casting off at dawn, they knew the start of
the great adventure was at hand and it awed them all.
A messenger paged Harry in the dining room and handed him a telegram.
The Neptune’s radio operator tore it open with fingers that shook just a
little and read it hungrily. His face whitened for a moment and he
folded the message carefully and placed it in an inner pocket. There was
a suspicion of a tear in one eye.
“A wire from Dad and Mother,” he said. “They’re the best ever.”
An hour later they stepped out of a taxi on the Brooklyn wharf. Lights
glowed over the Neptune; cars hurried up to disgorge other members of
the crew, newspaper men were buzzing around, flashlights blazed and over
the whole scene there was a feeling of tension.
Gilbert Mathews was at the head of the ladder, checking in every man as
he came aboard. Harry reported and was checked off the list. He turned
to his friends from Bellevue.
“I can’t say very much,” he told them. “Everything is sort of choked up
in my throat. Bert, old scout, I’ll be tuning up for your messages.
Don’t forget me.”
“I won’t,” promised the Goliath’s operator.
“So long, fellows,” said Harry and he turned and hastened down the
ladder to the deck of the Neptune. He paused for a moment and waved
before stepping inside the steel hull.
When they returned to their hotel, Blatz stopped at a newsstand to buy
an early edition of one of the morning papers. They were so much more
comprehensive than the Rubanian papers to which he had been accustomed
and he thoroughly enjoyed reading them. In the quiet of his room he
digested the news of the day. A story on an inside page caught and held
his attention. The dateline was “KRATZ, Rubania.” The story told of the
growing unrest against the regime of Dictator Reikoff, adding that this
bad feeling was centered in the powerful air corps, the largest unit of
the Rubanian army.
Blatz knew what they meant. Reikoff had been making unjust demands of
his airmen and he was sitting on an open powder keg which was likely to
explode with disastrous results to himself. Blatz almost wished that
revolution would sweep the country and rid Rubania of its dictator. He
was thoroughly disgusted and out of sympathy with the task to which he
had been assigned, that of destroying the Goliath, and he would welcome
any opportunity to escape but as long as Reikoff lived and ruled it
would mean death for Blatz if he failed to carry out his mission.
Andy stepped through the door which connected the double room.
“Any objections to our returning to Bellevue in the morning?” he asked.
“No, why?” replied Blatz.
“Oh, there’s no reason for us to stay on longer here but I thought you
might have some business over on the east side to transact.”
Andy’s keen eyes were watching Blatz’s face, searching for some change
of expression that would indicate his alarm. There was none; the
civilian observer outwardly appeared cool and unruffled but it was well
that Andy could not see the flash of fear that seared across his mind.
It was true, then, that Andy did suspect him. He was warning him in this
way to watch his step. Undoubtedly he would tell the secret service. If
he, Blatz, were to accomplish his mission of destruction it must be
immediately after his return to Bellevue.
“There is nothing to keep me in the city,” replied Blatz, “and I am
anxious to get back and see the finishing touches put on the Goliath.”
“Then we’ll get an early start,” said Andy, “drop down the harbor and
say goodbye to the Neptune and then head for home. We ought to be there
in time for lunch.”
They were up shortly after dawn but it was eight o’clock by the time
they reached the airport of the National Airways in Jersey, had stowed
their baggage in the monoplane and were ready to take the air. Andy took
over the controls, Blatz climbed in beside him and Bert stowed his more
ample bulk in a chair just behind and beside a window where he could
wave when they passed the Neptune.
Satisfied that the motor of the monoplane was functioning perfectly,
Andy sent the plane speeding over the crushed rock runway and into the
slanting rays of the sun. He circled the field until he had plenty of
altitude, and then cut across the Jersey flats where the blue Atlantic
gleamed in the distance.
The Neptune must have started at the crack of dawn, for the submarine
was far down the bay when they finally picked it up. The Neptune was
running on the surface at ten knots an hour, its sharp nose cleaving
through the sparkling waves and its decks almost awash. The main hatch
was open and half a dozen of the crew were on top of the conning tower.
Andy sent the monoplane down in a gentle glide, levelled off, and
skimmed over the water with motor on full. They flashed past the
Neptune, raced out to sea, turned and roared back: Someone on the
conning tower was waving frantically.
The three in the monoplane caught a fleeting glimpse of Harry as they
sped past. The Neptune was off, headed for Plymouth, England, on the
first leg of its long and adventurous trip into the Arctic.