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Updated: May 9, 2025
Jack, looking up, saw Lieutenant Commander Mayhew leaning over the bridge rail. "Thank you, sir," Jack acknowledged, saluting the naval officer. The parent vessel and her two submarine charges now lay at anchor in the harbor at Port Clovis, one of the towns down the coast from Dunhaven. This mooring overnight was to be repeated each day until Annapolis should be reached.
Even with the thorough examination of the sea-valve that had been, tampered with, there was not so much to be done, for this was the last day of the work. On the morrow Dunhaven was to be more or less alive, for the "Pollard" was to be launched then. Many visitors, including a swarm of newspaper men, were expected.
“That’s our gunboat out there, I think,” went on Mr. Farnum, pointing to where a white masthead light and a red port light were visible, about a mile away. “Dunhaven must be on the map, all right, if a strange navigating officer knows how to come so straight to the place,” laughed Jack Benson.
"What are you doing these days?" McCrea wanted to know. "Anything besides testing new boats at Dunhaven?" "You must greet them as comrades, McCrea," continued Lieutenant Ulwin. "What? Cadets at Annapolis?" In this case McCrea wondered at their being there, for cadets would be considered forward who visited an officers' club. "Benson is a lieutenant, his friends ensigns," replied Ulwin.
Jack took the slim cudgel from, his chum, who, at a silent signal, slipped back and picked up some of the slashed cord. There was enough of it to accomplish the tying of Jaggers. "See here," whined Dan, "you're not going to take me to Dunhaven?"
A new machinist, taken aboard just before we sailed from Dunhaven. The same fellow who must have played the trick on the 'Pollard's' engines yesterday," Benson replied. "I'll be glad to have a fellow like that in irons in the brig aboard the 'Hudson, then," muttered Mr. Mayhew. "I couldn't understand, Mr. Benson, how you were doing so badly in the full speed ahead dash."
And these young men belong to the Navy? Midshipmen, no doubt?" "There are no Navy men on board," replied the builder. "These young men are my employes. But we are losing time drifting about on the high seas. We will put back to Dunhaven, and you can tell us your story, if you choose, on the way." "But my father does not care to go ashore," interposed the son.
"We'll take you with us." "Not to Dunhaven!" screamed the bully. "Even to Dunhaven," mocked Hal. "But they'll send me to jail," protested the scared wretch. "Well," insinuated Benson, "can you imagine any other place that would be as suitable for a fellow of your kind?" "You fellers promised me ye wouldn't take me to Dunhaven, if I stopped fighting," whined Jaggers.
It was after eleven o'clock at night when the two submarine boys left the cottage to tramp back to Dunhaven. As they neared the village they heard the town clock striking midnight. That was the only sound they could hear besides the movement of their own feet. Dunhaven was wrapped in sound slumber. Their way led the boys close to Farnum's boatyard.
An officer of the United States Navy, especially detailed for the work, was expected hourly at Dunhaven. The three submarine boys were eager for their first taste of this work. Barely less interested were Jacob Farnum, shipbuilder, and president of the submarine company, and David Pollard, inventor of the Pollard type of submarine craft.
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