JOHN C. RHINDS ADVOCATES FAIR SPORT!
Boom! From over the port rail of the "Oakland" a dense cloud of grayish
white smoke belched out.
Through it flashed a streak of red.
As the "Oakland" was the temporary flagship of this fleet of two
gunboats, this gunfire was the signal for the submarines to move on out
of the bay.
Lieutenant Danvers had already come over to the "Benson" from the
flagship. Danvers bore with him the orders of the naval board.
Moreover, the lieutenant was to remain on the Pollard craft that day.
Each submarine that was entered for the race had a naval officer on
board, who was to give directions, at need, and to act as judge of
conduct.
"Just get under way easily, and move out, Mr. Benson," advised Danvers.
"Eight or nine miles will be fast enough to go."
Jack and the naval officer stood by the platform deck steering wheel as
the "Benson" left her moorings.
Back by the conning tower stood Messrs. Farnum and Pollard. Eph was
below, until otherwise needed, to render Hal any necessary help in the
engine room.
"There goes the Rhinds boats" called Mr Farnum, as one of the other
submarines left her moorings, making for sea in the wake of the
"Chelsea," which gunboat was to act as the starter's boat for that day.
"What's the name of that particular Rhinds boat?" asked Jack.
"The 'Zelda'," replied Lieutenant Danvers.
"Nice, lady-like name for a fighting boat," mocked Jack.
"You don't seem to like the Rhinds people," hinted the naval officer.
"I don't," Jack admitted, bluntly.
"Well, I suppose it isn't human nature to be fond of our rivals,"
assented the naval officer, slowly.
"I've other reasons, of my own, for disliking Rhinds," muttered the
submarine boy.
"He hasn't what you could call a wholesome face," smiled Danvers. "In
fact, I think Mr. Rhinds must be a self-made man, made very badly. I
can't quite think that he has anything of the human face divine."
Jack laughed, but bitterly.
"The 'Zelda' is the boat we have to beat today," he added.
"I wonder if you'll do it?" muttered Lieutenant Danvers, gazing suddenly
over at the "Zelda," now well ahead and cutting a white path of foam.
"Great guns, look at her go!"
Jack did glance up and ahead. He felt a sinking at heart, for the
moment. For the "Zelda" was showing a burst of speed that was calculated
to make any rival thoughtful.
"Mr. Farnum," Jack called back, "will you pass the word for Hal to come
on deck?"
Young Hastings was up in a moment!
"They're forcing that boat," muttered Hal, gazing after the "Zelda"
uneasily. "I can overtake her, though, Jack, if you say the word."
"Do you think so?" asked Lieutenant Danvers, dubiously.
"Don't try it, Hal," Jack advised, quietly. "Save all overheated pistons
and other parts for the final test."
The "Zelda" was now well ahead of the "Chelsea," which was putting out
at cruising speed only.
Too-oot! toot! toot! sounded sharply, hoarsely, from the deep throat
of the "Chelsea's" whistle.
"Good enough," muttered Lieutenant Danvers. "They've ordered the Rhinds
scooter to slow clown and fall into line behind the gunboat."
"I'm sorry," muttered Hal.
"Why?" asked the naval lieutenant.
"I wish they had let old Rhinds go ahead and get all his machinery
red-hot at the outset."
Then, slowly shaking his head, Hal Hastings went back to his post.
"Do you really think we can beat that scooter to-day, Hal?" inquired
the shipbuilder, anxiously.
"Yes, sir."
"What makes you so certain, lad?"
"Why, we'll beat her just because we've got to do it, sir," Hastings
replied, then hurried below.
"Hal isn't any too sure," muttered David Pollard, restlessly. "Neither
am I. Jake, we have a strong fight to make to-day. Somehow, Rhinds has
managed to put a pretty lively engine in that boat of his. I had an
idea she'd be two or three miles an hour slower."
"Probably we haven't been shown anything like the 'Zelda's' best speed,
yet," replied Farnum, moodily.
Building and trying out submarine torpedo boats is the kind of work to
make many a man's hair turn prematurely white. As success depends
solely upon actual showings made, the anxiety of any builder during a
series of competitive tests in which several makes of boat are entered
can be easily understood.
Messrs. Farnum and Pollard were plainly on tenterhooks that day. They
might well be. Should the Rhinds boat carry away the honors on that
day and on the subsequent days of the present tests, then Farnum and
Pollard, who had their entire fortunes invested in this business, would
have on their hands only so much scrap steel, brass and iron.
Nor would Jack and his comrades fare any better. If the boys were
vanquished, Farnum and Pollard would have no more work for them. No
other submarine company would want the services of losers.
"Keep your nerve to-day, won't you, Benson?" asked Lieutenant Danvers,
in a low tone.
"Why?" queried Jack, with the ghost of a smile, as he glanced into the
naval officer's face. "Have I been showing any nervousness?"
"Not yet, and I don't want you to."
"Are you as interested as that in us, Mr. Danvers?"
"I like you, Benson--like you from the deck up, and I don't want to
see you lose a single point in the game. That's all."
Eph Somers came on deck, presently.
"Hal says he doesn't need me below for the present, Jack, so I came up
to relieve you at the wheel. I don't want to see your steering wrist
going stale when the race starts, so you'd better let me have the wheel,
while you keep yourself fresh for the real work."
"As the race hasn't begun yet," broke in Lieutenant Danvers, "there is
no impropriety in my taking the wheel out to the start, if you'll trust
me to handle your boat."
"Trust a naval officer?" laughed Jack Benson, flashing a smile of
gratitude at the lieutenant. "That's a funny idea to suggest."
Danvers took the wheel silently, then devoted his whole thought,
apparently, to the--for him--simple task that he had in hand.
Outside the bay the "Chelsea" signaled to the submarine boats to slow up.
Then the gunboat moved over to temporary anchorage. A line between the
gunboat's bow and the lighthouse on Groton Point, to the northward, was
to furnish the imaginary starting line. This line the five competing
submarine torpedo boats must, at second gunfire, cross as nearly together
as possible. There were penalties, of course, for any one boat trying
to steal a lead over the rest.
By this time the fast gunboat "Oakland," which had a safe speed of
twenty-four knots an hour, under forced draught, lay to, some two miles
further out. The "Oakland's" task was to stick close to the leaders,
and, at the end, to decide which craft had won.
_Boom!_ The first gun sounded over the starboard side of the "Chelsea."
In five minutes' time the second gun would thunder out--and the racers
would be off!
Such a scurrying as there was then among these five little craft of war!
Captain Jack Benson had the wheel again. Henceforth, Lieutenant Danvers
was to be but a spectator--a judge, at need, and on his honor, as an
officer of the United States Navy, to show no partiality to those on
whose boat he found himself.
As Eph might be needed on deck, at any instant, he stood leaning against
the conning tower.
David Pollard was missing. He had gone below, had taken off his coat,
and was standing in shirt-sleeves, ready to render any possible aid to
Hal Hastings, the young chief engineer on whom so much depended in the
six hours to come.
Now that one of the supreme moments in his career had come, Jacob Farnum
hardly dared breathe. He said not a word to Eph, who, just as anxious,
stood at his elbow.
As the submarine craft scurried over the waves, each seeking its best
place for a start over the line, the "Zelda" came up within sixty yards,
running alongside for a moment or two.
John C. Rhinds, standing at the rail of his own craft, with what was
intended to be a smile his face, waved his hat wildly at Jacob Farnum.
"Good luck to you, Farnum--and to us!" bellowed Rhinds. "Of course,
I'd like to win today, but if you've the better boat, go ahead and
leave us at the finish. May the best craft win, no hard feelings!
Fair sport all the way through, Farnum, old and to you, Benson--may
you never be in fitter shape than to-day!"
"The old hypocrite!" gasped Jack, vengefully "I'm mighty sorry I can't
head this boat around and run it straight down his lying throat!"
"Then he'd surely gobble you up!" laughed Lieutenant Danvers. "But be
careful, lad! Don't let vengeful thoughts get into your head and stick
to-day. You've got to keep yourself cool and your nerve steady. Look
out, now, for the second gun!"
All five of the submarines were manoeuvering for the starting line.
Boom! The second gun roared out, and the six hours' speed and endurance
test was on!