CAPTAIN JACK PULLS A NEW STRING
Radwin did not return.
Though looking outwardly composed, John C. Rhinds passed the next few
hours in a condition of internal unrest.
Why did Chief Ward want to see Fred Radwin? And why had the latter
tricked himself off out of sight?
These questions tormented Rhinds the more because he could not even
invent satisfactory answers to them.
"Is the chief of police acting on anyone else's orders?" quavered the
old man. "Has Fred betrayed himself in anything he has done? Is he
a fugitive from justice? Oh, mercy! What a situation just when I am
trying to put the deals through that shall make the Rhinds Submarine
Company the richest concern of its kind in the world!"
By the middle of the afternoon Rhinds heard the newsboys calling
something excitedly down in the street.
"What's that? What's that?" gasped the old man, holding one hand to
his ear. "Sounds like 'Dastardly plot--submarine mystery.' Can it be
anything to injure our chances?"
As he looked down into the street, from the altitude of the third floor
window, Rhinds saw that, whatever the news, the boys appeared to be
selling papers fast.
For a few seconds Rhinds wavered. Then he crossed the room to the
telephone.
"Send me up the latest editions of the newspapers," he 'phoned the
clerk in the office. After that he lighted a big, black cigar--and
waited, mopping the perspiration from his forehead.
After a few moments there came a knock at the door, and Rhinds opened
it. He noticed that the bell-boy looked at him somewhat queerly as the
papers were handed over. Then, having closed the door and locked it,
John Rhinds sank into a chair, holding up three newspapers, in turn,
and scanning the big, black headlines.
Yes; here it all was--the whole story in every essential detail. It
told of the mysterious attempt to destroy the "Hastings" at the end of
the lightning cruise. The stories contained Lieutenant Danvers's
statement that the "Thor" had been headed toward the "Hastings" just
a few seconds before the torpedo passed the Pollard boat's bows.
There was an account of the naval party's search of the "Thor," and
the fact that the latter craft was found to have her full number of
torpedoes on board was set forth in all fairness. Oh, yes! The story
was fair enough! No newspapermen could have been fairer than had the
chroniclers of this exciting submarine news. There were no accusations
against Rhinds or his associates--nothing but the fair, unbiased
telling of facts. And yet, in almost any reader's mind the opinion
would be quick to form that only from the "Thor" could the treacherous
torpedo have been fired.
"Oh, it's--it's awful!" cried John Rhinds, waving the papers over his
head like a madman.
Jack Benson had played his master stroke in this new game.
In former times, when the Pollard boats had been all but unknown,
Captain Jack had been quick to grasp the importance of newspaper fame.
As told in the second volume of this series, Jack had once invited
a big party of newspaper folks to Dunhaven, to observe some startling
performances by the Pollard boat. At that time he had given them a
programme so full of excitement that the fame of the Pollard boat had
been flashed over the country, and the Navy Department had found public
opinion clamoring for the United States Navy to own and control a few of
these wonderful craft.
And now, Jack Benson, wholly and absolutely convinced of the guilt of
Rhinds and Radwin, had gone to the local daily newspaper offices with
his account of what had happened out at sea.
It was a great stroke. Yet Captain Jack had not undertaken it without
first having secured the permission of Jacob Farnum. After Jack went to
the newspaper offices the Colfax reporters had busied themselves with
interviewing naval officers, including members of the naval board.
And now the story was out, for the world to read. Yet it was a statement
only of bare, easily proved facts. The newspapers were glad to have such
a startling yarn, and it had been told in such a way that John Rhinds did
not have a single chance in any suit he might bring for libel.
After the first shock that the discovery caused him, John C. Rhinds
began to suspect Jack's hand in this straight-from-the-shoulder blow.
"It's that young Benson again!" he raged, silently, rising and stamping
on the offending, yet truth-telling, newspapers. "And this will get
beyond Colfax! The newspapers of the larger cities will begin to hear
of this by evening. To-night this whole yarn will be flashing over the
telegraph wires of the country. Tomorrow morning millions of people
will be reading this awful stuff. Oh, if I could only tear that young
fellow to pieces!"
John Rhinds gnashed his teeth in his fury. Had he caught a glimpse of
himself in the mirror, just then, the man would have been afraid of his
own reflection.
Yet, with all his guilty knowledge of what he had encouraged Radwin to
do, it did not occur to Rhinds to lay the blame anywhere except upon the
shoulders of honest, though hard fighting, Captain Jack Benson.
Presently, John Rhinds cooled down.
He even became suave and smiling--though under the smile a ghastly
pallor lay on his cheeks.
This change of outward temper was all because he was forced to become
crafty before others.
It is a common way with many newspapers to leap on a man and trounce him,
figuratively speaking, and then to send reporters around to see how the
victim has enjoyed the flaying.
That was what happened to John Rhinds.
Within half an hour after the newspapers had come to him a message over
the telephone from the hotel office informed the president of the Rhinds
Submarine Company that a reporter was below who wished to interview Mr.
Rhinds.
"Ah! Er--huh!" choked the wretch, swallowing hard. "Have the young
gentleman shown up, of course. And send up any other reporters who may
ask for me."
By the time that the first reporter reached the door Rhinds had carefully
removed all traces of the torn newspapers. The old man was calm. He
even smiled slightly, though he affected to be stung to the soul by the
thought that any American could think that he, or any of his party
aboard the "Thor" could have been guilty of such a fearful attempt of
crime.
"But of course, young man," urged Rhinds, suavely, "you will be able,
through the great power of the press for right, to set all suspicions
at rest. You will, I beg of you, give renewed publicity to the fact that
we were found to have our full number of torpedoes aboard. That one
fact, of course, disposes of any suspicion that we could have thought
of doing such a fearful thing."
The reporter was young, but he was not lacking in shrewdness. This
boyish-looking journalist had interviewed smooth-talking scoundrels
before.
"There is one little point I would like to inquire about, Mr. Rhinds,"
hinted this reporter, chewing at the end of his pencil.
"A dozen--a hundred points--anything you want to know!" protested the
man who was being interviewed.
"Thank you," nodded the reporter, coolly. "Now, it is a well-established
fact that you had your full number of torpedoes aboard, when the naval
officers searched. But have you any place on board the 'Thor' that
would serve as a hiding place for an extra torpedo--an extra torpedo
that might, let us say, have been obtained in any one of a number of
ways?"
John C. Rhinds began to feel great waves of chill passing up and down
his spine. Hang this smiling, boyish reporter! Rhinds began to feel
that he hated this young man next to Jack Benson!
"No!" shouted the interviewed one, hoarsely, angrily. "We have no such
hiding place on board. We have no place that could be used for hiding
an extra torpedo."
The reporter nodded, then continued with a cool smile:
"Thank you, Mr. Rhinds, for answering so important a question on such a
vitally important point. It is very important to have the suspicion
disposed of that such a hiding place might exist."
"Very important," confirmed John Rhinds, leaning forward in his most
impressive manner. "And you have my authority for settling the point
for good and all."
"So that, of course, Mr. Rhinds," pursued the cool, smiling young
reporter, "you will be most glad when I suggest to you the importance
of allowing a commission composed of, say, an editor and two reporters
from the 'Gazette' to go aboard the 'Thor,' search for such a hiding
place, and then be prepared to inform the world that no such hiding
place exists on the 'Thor.'"
That proposition came like a torpedo itself; it struck, too, below the
water-line of John Rhinds's hard-won composure.
"Why do you--?" he stammered. Then the wretch forced himself to be
cool again.
"No, my young friend, I am sorry to say that that would not be
practicable. You see, a submarine craft is full of secrets. Outside of
our own crew none but officers of the Navy can be permitted to go below
the platform deck of any of my boats."
"Oh, well, then," nodded the reporter, "the 'Gazette' can clamor for a
naval board to be appointed to make the search, and at once. That will
serve the purpose as well, Mr. Rhinds--and it will answer the most
burning question that the public will want to ask."
Then came the other reporters. Rhinds saw them all, wore before them
all the mask of wounded innocence, showed them all how easily they might
allay all public suspicions.
Then, when the last reporter had departed, John Rhinds, feeling too weak
to stand, sank down upon a sofa, covering his face with his hands.
Thus, for some time he lay, hardly giving signs of life. His fright
was great, indeed.
In striking this blow young Captain Jack Benson had struck far harder
than he had even dreamed.
When Rhinds began to realize things once more he missed Fred
Radwin--Radwin, the seeming fugitive, who had run away from his foul
leader at the first sound of a police voice.
Still, it was possible that Radwin was not far away. Possible, also,
that in this fact lay time greatest danger that had ever menaced Jack
Benson.