THE MEETING IN THE HARBOR.
Events in this world, no matter how seemingly incomprehensible, usually
happen for the best.
If the _Grampus_ had not had her fight with the cachalot she would not
have put in at Port of Spain, and if Ensign Glennie had not lost his
dispatches he would not have put in there, either.
The damage to the fore rudder had been insignificant. Some of the iron
bars protecting the rudder had been twisted and bent by the whale’s
flukes, and Bob Steele had repaired the damage while coming through the
Boca Drago into the gulf.
The submarine was riding high in the water a quarter of a mile off
shore, the Stars and Stripes fluttering gayly from the little flagstaff
forward. A small boat was in the water and a colored boatman was
rowing two lads around the bow of the _Grampus_. Three men and another
boy were forward on the submarine’s deck, evidently assisting in an
examination of some sort.
Glennie had the skipper of the launch lay alongside the small boat.
“Hello, there!” called Glennie. “Is that boat the _Grampus?_”
“Yes,” replied one of the lads in the other boat.
“I’m looking for Bob Steele.”
“You mean you’re looking at him and not for him. I’m Bob Steele.”
“Well, I’m Ensign Glennie. What the dickens are you doing at Port of
Spain?”
“What the dickens are _you_ doing here? We were to pick you up at
Georgetown.”
“What I’m doing here is _my_ business,” said Glennie, stiffening. “I
wasn’t expecting you for two or three days yet, and expected to be in
Georgetown by the time you got there.”
Bob stared at the haughty young man in the trim uniform. Dick Ferral,
who was in the boat with him, gave a long whistle.
“Then,” said Bob coolly, “I guess our reason for being here is our own
business. We were expecting to find a midshipman, Glennie, and not----”
“Mr. Glennie,” struck in the ensign. “I’m a passed midshipman and a
commissioned officer.”
Dick got to his feet, pulled off his cap, and bowed.
“Mr. Glennie!” he exclaimed, with an accent on the “mister” that was
not entirely respectful. “Our brass band has been given shore leave, so
we can’t muster the outfit and play you aboard. It’s a little bit hard,
too, considering our limited number, to dress ship.”
A smothered laugh came from the deck of the _Grampus_. Glennie stared
at Ferral, and then at Speake, Gaines, Clackett, and Carl. The latter,
grabbing the flag halyards, dipped the ensign.
“If ve hat a gannon, Misder Glennie,” yelled Carl, “ve vould gif der
atmiral’s salute.”
A flush ran through the ensign’s cheeks.
“Who is that person, Steele?” demanded Glennie, pointing to Dick.
“Mr. Steele,” corrected Bob. “This, Mr. Glennie,” with mock gravity,
“is my friend, Mr. Dick Ferral. The Dutchman on the boat is another
friend--Mr. Carl Pretzel. The hands are Mr. Speake, Mr. Gaines, and Mr.
Clackett. This colored gentleman is Mr. Scipio Jones. Now that we are
all acquainted, Mr. Glennie, may I ask you if you are coming aboard to
stay?”
“I am,” was the sharp rejoinder. “Those were my orders from the captain
of the _Seminole_.”
Bob caught a rope which Carl threw to him and stepped to the rounded
deck of the _Grampus_.
“The submarine’s all right, Dick,” said he, “and hasn’t a dent in her
anywhere. Go ashore and get the gasoline. Have you the hydrometer in
your pocket?”
“Yes.”
“Then be sure and test the gasoline thoroughly.”
As Dick was rowed away he once more removed his hat ostentatiously in
passing the launch. Ensign Glennie disregarded the mocking courtesy and
motioned his boatman to place the launch close to the submarine.
“Take my grip, my man,” called Glennie to Gaines, standing up and
tossing the suit case.
Gaines grabbed the piece of luggage. “Why didn’t you whistle, Mr.
Glennie?” he asked, dropping the suit case down the open hatch of the
conning tower and listening to the smash as it landed at the foot of
the iron ladder. “We’re well trained and can walk lame, play dead, an’
lay down an’ roll over at a mere nod.”
The ensign ignored Gaines’ remarks. Climbing to the rounded deck he
faced Bob Steele with considerable dignity.
In spite of the ensign’s arrogance there was about him a certain
bearing learned only at Annapolis and on the quarter-deck of American
warships--a bearing that predisposed Bob in his favor.
“We had a fight with a cachalot, Mr. Glennie,” said Bob, unbending a
little, “and thought best to put in here and look the _Grampus_ over to
see if----”
“You were guilty of gross carelessness,” interrupted Glennie, “by
risking the submarine in such a contest. But possibly you are ignorant
of the fact that a bull cachalot has been known to attack and sink a
full-rigged ship?”
“Vat a high-toned feller id is!” grunted Carl disgustedly. “He vill
make it aboudt as bleasant on der poat as a case of measles.”
Bob frowned at Carl.
“It was either sink the cachalot or run the risk of being stove in,”
said Bob. “We’ll have to have a little talk, Mr. Glennie, so you had
better go below to the periscope room.”
The ensign nodded, climbed over the top of the tower, and disappeared.
“That there uniform makes him top-heavy, Bob,” growled Clackett. “The
quicker you pull some o’ the red tape off o’ him the better it’ll be
for all of us.”
“He’s all right, boys,” said Bob, “and I’ll bet he’s a good fellow down
at the bottom. He forgets he’s not on the _Seminole_, that’s all.”
When Bob got down into the periscope room he found Glennie examining
one corner of the suit case, which was badly smashed.
“I regret to note, Mr. Steele,” said he, “that there is a serious lack
of discipline aboard this boat. Such a thing could never be tolerated
in the service. We are to take a long and hazardous journey, and I
shall insist on having the men keep their places.”
“You are not here to insist on anything, Mr. Glennie,” replied Bob,
coolly placing himself on one of the low stools that were used as
seats. “My own duties, and yours, are pretty clear in my mind. Let’s
see if I have the situation exactly as you understand it.
“The owner of this boat, Captain Nemo, junior, is recovering from a
sick spell in Belize, and he has sold the _Grampus_ to the United
States government for one hundred thousand dollars, conditional upon
the submarine’s being taken around the Horn and delivered safely to
the commandant at Mare Island Navy Yard, San Francisco. For this long
cruise I have been placed in charge of the boat. You are aboard as
representative of the government, merely to observe her performance.
Have I got it right?”
Glennie nodded.
“Upon my report,” said he, “will largely depend the acceptance or
rejection of the craft when she reaches Mare Island. Don’t overlook
that point. A lack of discipline will get us all into trouble, and may
result in the loss of the----”
“I will attend to the discipline,” said Bob stiffly. “If the boat
behaves well, you can find no fault with the way I manage her. I must
ask you not to bother me with any remarks as to how the _Grampus_ is to
be run. I and my friends are not in the naval service, but we all know
the submarine perfectly and understand what is expected of us.
“The cruise we are to make is one that no submarine ever made before.
It is full of dangers, and unforeseen difficulties are going to bob up
and will have to be dealt with. The _Grampus_ is equal to the work, and
in due time she will be delivered to the commandant at Mare Island, but
I want, and will insist on having, a perfectly free hand. A friendly
footing is what I desire among all on board, more than anything else.”
Bob smiled and stretched out his hand.
“Just a minute, Mr. Steele,” said Glennie, pursing up his lips. “I
understood that I was to be here in an advisory capacity. From your
talk I take it that you consider yourself the whole works, and that I
am to play the rôle of an innocent bystander.”
“I am to manage the boat,” returned Bob firmly.
“Then,” cried Glennie, “if you get us into serious difficulties, I am
to say nothing, but bear the brunt of your mistakes along with the rest
of the men?”
“Do you know anything about submarines?”
“A graduate of Annapolis is equipped with all the knowledge he can
possibly need in his work.”
“Theoretical knowledge,” qualified Bob. “Have you ever had any
practical experience on a submarine?”
“No.”
“Then, if I get into difficulties, I don’t think you could give any
advice that would help us out.”
The ensign bowed coldly. “Have you a cabin reserved for me?” he
inquired.
Bob nodded toward a bulkhead door leading to a steel room abaft the
periscope chamber. “We have fixed up a place in there for you,” said he.
“Then, inasmuch as I am a passenger, I will proceed to eliminate myself
and keep out of your way.”
Without taking Bob’s hand he picked up his suit case and started. At
the door he paused while a hail came down from the hatch.
“Hello dere, Bob!”
“What is it, Carl?”
“Dere iss a Chink feller alongsite, und he say dot he vant to see
Misder Glennie.”
“A Chinaman!” muttered Glennie, pausing. “Why does he want to see me?”
“Vell, he say dot he tell you somet’ing aboudt a feller mit der name
oof Dolo, und----”
A shout of joy escaped Glennie, and he dropped his suit case and jumped
for the ladder.
“Wait, Mr. Glennie,” said Bob, “and I’ll have the Chinaman come down.”
“Very good,” said Glennie, smothering his impatience and dropping down
on the locker.