ON THE EDGE OF THE SPIDER'S WEB
An hour after dinner the orchestra of the Hotel Clayton crashed out into
the first two-step.
The big ballroom was already two thirds as well filled as it could be
with comfort. Potted green palms stood everywhere at the sides. The
orchestra in the gallery was nearly concealed behind a fringe of green.
The air was sweetly odorous with the fragrance of southern blossoms.
Scores of young women in all varieties of handsome evening dress
enlivened the appearance of the scene. Their gems cast glitter and
enchantment. There were men enough, too, for partners in the dance,
the men behind expanses of white shirt-front and clad in the black of
evening dress.
Just a few of the men, however, lent additional color to the scene.
These were officers and midshipmen from the "Waverly," who came attired
in the handsome blue, gold-braided dress uniforms of the service.
Among the guests of the hotel who attended the dance were Jacob Farnum
and his two young submarine experts; Jack Benson and Hal Hastings. The
shipbuilder had come ashore with his young friends, registering at the
Clayton and taking rooms there.
"It's time for you youngsters to get ashore and have a little gaiety,"
Farnum had declared. "If you don't mix with lively people once in a
while, you'll rust even while you keep the 'Benson's' machinery bright."
Jack and Hal had agreed to this. Eph, however, had expressed himself
decidedly as preferring to remain on board the submarine for the time.
Williamson, too, had elected to remain on board, and so had David
Pollard, who rarely cared for anything in the social line.
On the floor, even before the music struck up, was M. Lemaire. He was
in the usual black evening dress, though on his wide shirt front
glistened the jeweled decoration of some order conferred upon him by a
European sovereign.
A handsome and distinguished figure did M. Lemaire present. He nodded
affably to many of the ladies in passing, and the interest with which
his greetings were acknowledged proved that M. Lemaire was in a gathering
where he could boast many acquaintances.
Almost at the first, M. Lemaire had succeeded in having Captain Jack
Benson pointed out to him. The tall, sallow man looked over the
submarine boys eagerly, though covertly. He beheld them in handsome
dress uniforms, very much like those worn by the naval officers, for
Jacob Farnum had insisted that his young submarine officers, wherever
they went must be appropriately attired.
In the throng, as M. Lemaire passed, stood one handsomely dressed girl.
Her face, which was interestingly beautiful, had a slightly foreign look.
The jewels that she wore must have cost a fortune. The girl herself was
a finished product in the arts of good breeding and grace.
As M. Lemaire approached her, this girl recognized him with a smile and
a half-quizzical look.
"Ah, good evening, Mademoiselle Nadiboff," murmured M. Lemaire, as he
bent low before the handsome young woman. "I am charmed."
Then he murmured, in a low tone, swiftly:
"Yonder are, the two boys. Jack Benson is the one you will interest.
You, Sara, know the arts of conversation well enough. Make him your
slave, until he is willing to tell all that we want to know. Invite him
to drive with you in your auto car to-morrow. But, bah! You will know
how to make him talk!"
All this was said swiftly, unheard by anyone else. Then M. Lemaire,
having appeared hardly to pause, passed on.
A minute later Mademoiselle Nadiboff was chatting laughingly with
Lieutenant Featherstone.
"Who are those two young men over there?" questioned the young woman.
"Are they of the Navy?"
"No, though related to us in interest," replied the lieutenant. "They
are the captain and chief engineer of the submarine that arrived this
afternoon. Youthful, aren't they?"
"Very," agreed Mademoiselle Sara. "But I like their faces. You will
present me, will you not, Lieutenant?"
"Gladly."
So Jack and Hal found themselves bowing before the handsome young
foreigner. Mlle. Sara had the appearance of being, equally interested
in both of them, though she soon managed, with her social arts, in
drawing somewhat aside with Jack Benson.
And then the music crashed out. One of the young woman's feet began to
tap the floor, her eyes glistening.
"Entrancing music," she murmured.
"If you are not engaged for this dance--" murmured Jack, hesitatingly.
This beautiful creature seemed so superior to the usual run of the human
kind that the submarine boy felt he was too presuming.
"You are very kind," replied the young woman, with a swift smile. "I
shall enjoy it greatly."
Jack took one of her hands in his, resting his other hand lightly at her
waist. A moment later they glided over the polished floor.
"Benson is doing famously," laughed Lieutenant Featherstone,
half-enviously. "But before I think of myself, Hastings, I must seek an
interesting partner for you, also."
"Kind of you," returned Hal, gratefully. "But I fear I must remain a
wall-flower, or a human palm to-night. I don't know how to dance."
"You don't?" murmured Featherstone, in amazement. "Good heavens! I
thought even the bootblacks knew how to dance in these modern days!"
Jacob Farnum knew how to dance, but did not care for it this evening.
He was much in love with his young wife, and, as she was not here, the
ballroom floor had no attractions for him. So he and Hal retired to
seats at the side of the ballroom.
"Jack is dancing with a famously pretty girl--the loveliest of many
that are here to-night," smiled the shipbuilder. "I trust he won't have
his head turned."
"Don't worry, sir," Hal rejoined, briefly.
The second dance, also, Jack Benson enjoyed with Mlle. Nadiboff. The
young woman herself arranged that gracefully. At the end of the second
dance Jack led his partner to a seat. Then she sent him for a glass of
water.
Her cobwebby lace handkerchief fell to the floor. M. Lemaire, passing
at that instant, espied it, picked it up, and returned it to her with
the bow of a polished man of the world.
"Flatter the young fellow! Make him dance attendance on you to the point
that he forgets all else," whispered the man.
"Trust me for that," murmured the girl.
"I do." And M. Lemaire was gone, swallowed up in the increasing throng.
As Jack Benson brought the glass of water Mlle. Nadiboff sipped at it
daintily. Raising her eyes so that she could read the placard now
suspended from the balcony rail, she announced:
"The next number is a waltz, Captain Benson. Truly, I am eager to know
how you waltz. It is a sailor's measure."
"Then perhaps you will favor me with a waltz, later in the evening,"
returned Jack, courteously. "But if I had the impudence to ask you
for this waltz, and if you were generous enough to grant it to me, I
know what would happen."
"What, my friend?"
The word "friend" was gently spoken, but Jack Benson replied bluntly:
"Some of the men here would lynch me, later in the night, Mlle.
Nadiboff."
The young woman laughed musically, though, as Jack glanced away for an
instant, a frown flashed briefly over her face.
"You will not disappoint me, I know, Captain," she murmured,
persuasively. "Besides, you are too brave to fear lynching for an act
that grants pleasure."
This was so direct that Jack Benson could not well escape. Nor, truth
to tell, did he want to. He found Mlle. Nadiboff's bright, gentle smile
most alluring. So, when the music for the waltz sounded the submarine
captain led her forth on to the floor.
At the finish, after Jack had led his partner to a seat, Lieutenant
Featherstone joined them. One or two others approached, and Benson
slipped away, though just before he did so the young woman's eyes met
his with a flash of invitation to seek her again later.
"You've been extremely, attentive, but I, imagine some of the other men
are combining to thrash you, Jack," smiled Farnum, when Benson returned
to his friends.
"Mlle. Nadiboff is a very delightful young woman," Jack answered,
heartily. "I'm sorry you don't dance, Hal."
"If I were very sorry, I'd learn," rejoined Hastings, simply.
During the waltz and the number that followed Jack remained with his
friends, looking on.
Then Lieutenant Featherstone, feeling that the Navy must look to the
enjoyment of these strangers, came over to them.
"How many of you dance?" inquired the lieutenant.
"Two of us," answered Hal. "I don't."
"Mr. Farnum, I must introduce you to an agreeable partner," urged the
Navy officer. "Who shall it be? I know most of the ladies here."
"Don't think me a bear, Mr. Featherstone, but I don't believe I'll
dance to-night, though I thank you tremendously," replied the
shipbuilder.
"Then, Benson, you must uphold the honor of your party," laughed the
lieutenant, linking his arm in Jack's and drawing him forward.
Captain Benson's next dance was with a California girl; after that he
led out a jolly young woman from New York. As he left the latter
partner, Mlle. Nadiboff, on the arm of a gentleman, passed close enough
to murmur:
"Captain, you are neglecting me--and I have saved the next, a waltz,
for you."
Not being engaged for that waltz, Jack could hardly do, otherwise than
claim it. Indeed, he greatly enjoyed dancing with this gracious,
handsome young woman. Yet, soon after he had taken Mlle. Nadiboff
to her seat, and another partner appeared to claim her favor, Benson
slipped away.
"Go after Captain Benson, I beg of you, and bring him back here for
a moment," requested the young woman of her new partner. That gentleman
obeyed, even if with a poor grace. Jack returned, bowing, while the
gentleman walked away a few feet.
"Captain, you are a stranger here at Spruce Beach?" murmured Mlle.
Nadiboff, directing the full gaze of her luminous eyes at Jack's.
"Yes, truly."
"I go motoring at eleven in the morning. I shall expect you here, at
that hour, to drive with me."
Jack looked as regretful as he felt.
"I'm very, very sorry, Mademoiselle" he replied. "But I am here on
duty, and--"
"Duty?" she interrupted, with a light laugh. "And pray what is duty,
Captain, but a something with which to flavor our pleasures in life?"
"With me, Mlle. Nadiboff," Jack Benson replied, earnestly, "duty is
everything, pleasure included."
"I am not accustomed to having my commands disregarded," exclaimed the
young woman, though in a low tone, while her eyes flashed some of her
displeasure.
"You are giving me pain, Mademoiselle," Jack responded, gravely.
"Perhaps, at another time--"
"Enough sir!" the young woman interposed. "And now I behold my next
partner glancing this way appealingly. I shall speak with you the next
time we meet, Captain."
Jack bowed, withdrawing. Making his way around the ballroom, he dropped
into a seat beside Mr. Farnum.
Even before Mlle. Nadiboff's partner could rejoin her, M. Lemaire
appeared around a palm at Mlle. Nadiboff's back as naturally as though
he had not been playing the eavesdropper.
"Have a care, Sara," he whispered, mockingly, "or you will fail in
making a fool of that young fellow!"
Half way through the next dance Jack and his friends remained in their
seats. Then Hal, stifling a yawn behind his hand, remarked:
"I've a notion that I shall be asleep in a few minutes. Late hours,
except on duty, don't jibe with our line of work."
"They don't," admitted Captain Jack, rising.
"Good, boys!" nodded Mr. Farnum, approvingly, as he also rose. "The
more rest you have the keener your wits will be for your work."
So they left the ballroom, observed by but few.
Five minutes later Mlle. Nadiboff sat surrounded by three men, with
whom she was chatting gayly. M. Lemaire approached her. She greeted
him so pointedly that the other three men soon fell away.
"I can hardly congratulate you, Sara," hissed M. Lemaire, speaking in
French.
"You think I have not made young Benson attentive enough to my whims?"
the young woman asked, plaintively.
"Attentive?" sneered M. Lemaire. "Do you know where he is now?"
"No," admitted Mlle. Nadiboff.
"He has gone away upstairs with his friends, that they may all be
prepared for an early and full day's work."
"You are jesting with me," protested Mlle. Nadiboff, indignantly.
"Take my arm, then, if you will," requested M. Lemaire. "We will stroll
about, and we shall see if your eyes are keen enough to discover your
young submarine captain."
The young woman defiantly accepted the challenge. By the time that
they had strolled around the ballroom scarlet spots glowed in her cheeks.
In either eye a tear of anger glistened behind the lash.
"Are you satisfied?" murmured M. Lemaire, in a low voice.
"I fear that I shall have to teach the young cub a lesson or two in the
art of showing devotion to a woman's wishes," Mlle. Nadiboff answered,
tremulously.
"Shall we walk in the grounds?"
"I beg you to take me out into the air," replied the young woman.
"Yes, it will be better," whispered her companion, cruelly. "Your face
is aflame. You will attract too much attention here, and too much
curiosity. The American naval officers have sharp eyes--sometimes!"
Procuring his companion's wrap at the coatroom, and throwing a light
topcoat about himself, M. Lemaire led the way to a distant settee from
which they could look out over the star lit waters beyond the beach.
The man had an especial reason for choosing this seat. From that place
they could quickly catch sight of anyone who came near enough to
overhear.
"Sara," began M. Lemaire, less brutally than his companion had expected
him to speak, "for once I fear that you are going to fail utterly."
"Then you do, not know me," she replied, with spirit. "I shall win!
I shall have Captain Jack Benson carrying my fan and craving my smile.
And that shall be quickly, too!"
"If you do not succeed, Sara," retorted the man, "then sterner measures
will have to be tried. This youthful Benson may even have to lose his
life in the attempt that must be made, at all hazards, to wrest from him
a set of drawings of the boat he commands, and a description of all her
working parts, and all the secrets of managing the boat!"
"If he could hear you, he would be charmed with the outlook," muttered
the young woman, shrugging her shoulders.
"Sara, do you comprehend the situation altogether? The Pollard type of
submarine boat is now the most formidable and dangerous in the
world--and only the United States Government can buy boats from the
makers! Any country in the world that goes to war with the United
States must be beaten unless that country knows how to provide itself
with submarine boats equal to those of the Pollard make. You may be
sure that, at this moment, Spruce Beach is overrun with spies
representing every great government in the world. The first country to
buy, steal, coax or drag out the Pollard secrets wins! You know the
master we serve, Sara, among the governments. We must be the spies
who win--even though all the Pollard crew have to be destroyed!"