On the second day of the cruise Jack Benson returned to full duty.
For four nights, in all, the submarine squadron tied up at moorings in
harbors along the coast. On the fifth night, as darkness fell, the
squadron continued under way, in Chesapeake Bay, for Annapolis was but
three hours away.
Immediately after supper Captain Jack took his place in the conning tower.
He concerned himself principally with the compass, his only other task
being to keep the course by the "Hudson's" lights, for the parent boat
supplied in its own conduct all the navigation orders beyond the general
course. The "Farnum's" searchlight was not used, the gunboat picking up
all the coast-marks as they neared land.
"Annapolis is the place I've always wanted to see," Jack declared, as Hal
joined him in the conning tower.
"It's the place where I've always wanted to be a cadet," sighed Hal. "But
there's no chance for me, I fear. Jack, I'd rather be an officer of the
Navy than a millionaire."
"Same here," replied Jack, steadily. "It's hard to have to feel that I'll
never be either."
As she entered the mouth of the Severn River the "Hudson" signaled to the
submarines to follow, in file, the "Pollard" leading. A little later the
three craft entered the Basin at the Academy. While the gunboat anchored
off the Amphitheatre, the two submarine boats were ordered to anchorage
just off the Boat House. Then a cutter came alongside.
"The lieutenant commander's compliments to Mr. Benson. Will Mr. Benson go
aboard the 'Hudson'?" asked the young officer in command of the cutter.
Captain Jack lost no time in presenting himself before the lieutenant
commander.
"Mr. Benson," said Mr. Mayhew, after greeting the submarine boy, "your
craft will be under a marine guard to-night, and at all times while here
at the Naval Academy. If you and your crew would like to spend the night
ashore, in the quaint little old town of Annapolis, there's no reason why
you shouldn't. But you will all need to report back aboard, ready for
duty, by eight in the morning."
Jack thanked the naval commander, then hastened back to the "Farnum" to
communicate the news.
"Me for the shore trip," declared Eph, promptly. All the others agreed
with him.
"I'll come back by ten o'clock to-night, though," volunteered Sam Truax.
"One of the crew ought to be aboard."
"We'll stay ashore," decided Jack, "and return in the morning."
"I'm coming back to-night," retorted Truax.
"Keep still, and follow orders," muttered Eph, digging his elbow into
Truax's ribs. "The captain gives the orders here."
Jack, however, had turned away. Within five minutes a boat put off from
shore, bringing two soldiers of the marine guard alongside. With them, in
the shore boat, was a corporal of the guard.
"Any of your crew coming back to-night, sir?" asked the corporal.
"None," Benson answered. "Will you instruct the sentries to see that none
of the crew are allowed aboard during the night?"
"Very good, sir."
The shore boat waited to convey them to the landing. Before going, young
Captain Benson closed and locked the manhole entrance to the conning
tower. A sullen silence had fallen over Truax. The instructions to the
corporal of the guard, and the prompt acceptance of those instructions,
told Sam, beyond any doubt, that he was _not_ coming back on board that
night.
Truax followed the others as they passed through the Academy grounds.
Beyond the large, handsome buildings, there was not much to be seen at
night. Lights shone behind all the windows in Cadet Barracks. Nearly all
of the cadets of the United States Navy were in their quarters, hard at
study. Here and there a marine sentry paced. A few naval officers, in
uniform, passed along the walks. That was all, and the submarine party had
crossed the grounds to the gate through which they were to pass into the
town of Annapolis.
"Coming with us, Truax?" asked Williamson, as the party passed out into a
dimly lighted street.
"No," replied the fellow, sullenly. "I'll travel by myself."
"You're welcome to," muttered Eph, under his breath.
The others climbed the steps to the State Capitol grounds, continuing
until they reached one of the principal streets of the little town.
"Say, but this place must have gone to sleep before we got ashore,"
grumbled Eph. "Hanged if I don't think Dunhaven is a livelier little
place!"
"There isn't much to do, except to wander about a bit, then go to the
Maryland House for a good sleep on shore," Jack admitted.
For more than an hour the submarine boys wandered about. The principal
streets contained some stores that had a bright, up-to-date look, and in
these principal streets the evening crowds much resembled those to be
found in any small town. There were other streets, however, on which there
was little traffic. In some of these quieter streets were quaint,
old-fashioned houses built in the Colonial days.
"Annapolis is more of a place to see by daylight, I reckon," suggested
Hal. "How about that sleep, Jack?"
"The greatest fun, by night, I guess, consists in finding a drug-store and
spending some of our loose change on ice cream sodas," laughed the young
submarine skipper.
This done, they found their way to the Maryland House. Jack and Hal
engaged a room together, Eph and Williamson taking the adjoining one.
"As for me, in an exciting place like this," grimaced Eph, "I'm off for
bed."
Williamson followed him upstairs. For some minutes Hal sat with his chum
in the hotel office. Then Jack went over and talked with the night clerk
for a few moments.
"There's a place near here, Hal, where a fellow can get an oyster fry,"
Benson explained, returning to his chum. "With that information came the
discovery that I have an appetite. Come and join me?"
"No," gaped Hal. "I reckon I'll go up and turn in."
"I'll be along in half an hour, then."
Jack found the oyster house readily. As he entered the little, not
over-clean place, he found himself the only customer. He gave his order,
then picked up the local daily paper. As he ate, Jack found himself
yawning. The drowsiness of Annapolis by night was coming upon him. Little
did he dream how soon he was to discover that Annapolis, in some of its
parts, can be lively enough.
As he paid his bill and stepped to the street, a young mulatto hurried up
to him.
"Am Ah correct, sah, in supposin' yo' Cap'n Jack Benson?"
"That's my name," Jack admitted.
"Den Ah's jes' been 'roun' to de hotel, lookin' fo' yo', sah. One ob yo'
men, Mistah Sam Truax, am done took sick, an' he done sent me fo' yo'."
"Truax ill? Why, I saw him a couple of hours ago, and he looked as healthy
as a man could look," Jack replied, in astonishment.
"I reckon, sah, he's mighty po'ly now, sah," replied the mulatto. "He done
gib me money fo' to hiah a cab an' take yo' to him. Will yo' please to
come, sah?"
"Yes," agreed Jack. "Lead the way."
"T'ank yo', sah; t'ank yo', sah. Follow me, sah."
Jack's mulatto guide led him down the street a little way, then around a
corner. Here a rickety old cab with a single horse attached, waited. A
gray old darkey sat on the driver's seat.
"Step right inside, sah. We'll be dere direckly. Marse Truax'll be
powahful glad to see yo', sah."
"See here," demanded Jack, after they had driven several blocks at a good
speed, "Truax hasn't been getting into any drinking scrapes, has he?
Hasn't been getting himself arrested, has he?"
For young Benson had learned, from the night clerk at the hotel, that,
quiet and "dead" as Annapolis appears to the stranger, there are "tough"
places into which a seafaring stranger may find his way.
"No, sah; no, sah," protested the mulatto. "Marse Truax done got sick
right and proper."
"Why, confound it, we're leaving the town behind," cried Jack, a few
moments later, after peering out through the cab window.
"Dat's all right, sah. Dere ain' nuffin' to be 'fraid ob, sah."
"Afraid?" uttered Jack, scornfully, with a side glance at the mulatto. The
submarine boy felt confident that, in a stretch of trouble, he could
thrash this guide of his in very short order.
"Ah might jess well tell yo' wheah we am gwine, sah," volunteered the
mulatto, presently.
"Yes," Benson retorted, drily. "I think you may."
"Marse Truax, sah, he done hab er powah ob trouble, sah, las' wintah, wid
rheumatiz, sah. He 'fraid he gwine cotch it again dis wintah, sah. Now,
sah, dere am some good voodoo doctahs 'roun' Annapolis, so Marse Truax, he
done gwine to see, sah, what er voodoo can promise him fo' his rheumatiz.
I'se a runnah, sah, for de smahtest ole voodoo doctah, sah, in de whole
state ob Maryland."
"Then you took Truax to a voodoo doctor to-night?" demanded Jack, almost
contemptuously.
"Yes, sah; yes, sah."
"I thought Truax had more sense than to go in for such tomfoolery," Jack
Benson retorted, bluntly.
The mulatto launched into a prompt, energetic defense of the voodoo
doctors. Young Benson had heard a good deal about these clever old colored
frauds. In spite of his contempt, the submarine boy found himself
interested. He had heard about the charms, spells, incantations and other
humbugs practised on colored dupes and on some credulous whites by these
greatest of all quacks. The voodoo methods of "healing" are brought out of
the deepest jungles of darkest Africa, yet there are many ignorant people,
even among the whites, who believe steadfastly in the "cures" wrought by
the voodoo.
While the mulatto guide was talking, or answering Jack's half-amused
questions, the cab left Annapolis further and further behind.
"Yo' see, sah," the guide went on, "Marse Truax wa'n't in no fit
condition, sah, to try de strongest voodoo medicine dat he called fo'. So,
w'ile de voodoo was sayin' his strongest chahms, Marse Truax done fall
down, frothin' at de mouth. He am some bettah, now, sah, but he kain't be
move' from de voodoo's house 'cept by a frien'."
"I'll get a chance to see one of these old voodoo frauds, anyway," Jack
told himself. "This new experience will be worth the time it keeps me out
of my bed. What a pity Hal missed a queer old treat like this!"
When the cab at last stopped, Benson looked out to find that the place was
well down a lonely country road, well lined with trees on either side. The
house, utterly dark from the outside, was a ramshackle, roomy old affair.
"Shall Ah wait fo' yo'?" asked the old colored driver.
"Yes, wait for me," directed Jack, briefly.
"Yeah; wait fo' de gemmun. He's all right," volunteered the mulatto.
"Mebbe yo' kin see some voodoo wo'k, too, ef yo's int'rested," hinted the
guide, in a whisper, as he fitted a key to a lock, and swung a door open.
In a hallway stood a lighted lantern, which the guide picked up.
"Now, go quiet-lak, on tip-toe. Sh!" cautioned the guide, himself moving
stealthily into the nearest room. Jack Benson began to feel secretly
awestruck and "creepy," though he was too full of grit to betray the fact.
At the further end of the room the guide, holding the lantern behind his
body as though by accident, threw open another door.
"Pass right on through dis room, ahead ob me, sah," begged the guide,
respectfully.
But Jack drew back, instinctively, out of the darkness.
"Don' yo', a w'ite man, be 'fraid ob ole voodoo house," advised the
mulatto, still speaking respectfully.
Afraid? Of course not. Relying on his muscle and his agility, Jack stepped
ahead. By a sudden jerk of his arm the mulatto guide shook out the flame
in the lantern.
"Here, you! What are you about?" growled Jack Benson, wheeling like a
flash upon his escort.
"Go 'long, yo' w'ite trash!" jeered the mulatto. He gave the boy a sudden,
forceful shove.
Jack Benson, under the impetus of that push, staggered ahead, seeking to
recover his balance. Without a doubt he would have done so, but, just
then, the floor under his feet ended. With a yell of dismay, the submarine
boy tottered, then plunged down, alighting on a bed of soft dirt many feet
below.