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Updated: May 13, 2025
"Then, Ennerling, I'm sorry I can't have the pleasure of putting you in irons," nodded Lieutenant Commander Braylesford, dryly. "Let down a rope ladder, and I'll come aboard for a moment, Braylesford." The watch lieutenant, who had hurried aft at this juncture, stood waiting respectfully for a word with his superior. "What have you to report, Lieutenant?" demanded Braylesford.
Captain Jack made the report to Commander Ennerling. It was in the small hours of the morning, and the submarine, having taken its prize in to Clyde City's harbor, was now on its way up the coast to tie up for the night at Dunhaven. They were running about six miles off the coast.
"Even keel, if you please," again requested Commander Ennerling. Jack began to flood, slowly, the water tanks, the "Pollard" sinking gradually. With the young captain at one side of the gauge, Messrs. Farnum and Pollard took their posts at the other side, to watch the readings. "How many feet down do you want to go?" asked young Benson, coolly.
"Selma ahoy!" hailed Ennerling, when the submarine was once more up with the yacht. "Get quiet and go to sleep!" shouted back the leader of the mutineers, derisively. "Under the law you mutineers are pirates," shouted back the commander, firmly. "If you don't surrender we shall be compelled to sink you." "Sheer off and forget it!" jeered the mutineer.
"Then, when we get out on the broad ocean, we'll be ready for any tests that these gentlemen want." Within a very few minutes more the "Pollard" was a mile off shore, heading almost due east and traveling at nearly her full speed. "We'll see how fast you can log the knots off for an hour," proposed Commander Ennerling, picking up a satchel that he had brought with him.
Three shots flashed out, amidships, on the yacht, showing that the fire was directed towards the stern. Two shots from the two men aft replied. No one appeared to have been hit. "We'll have to fight if we're to be of any use," muttered Ennerling. "With our fists, too, confound the luck!" They were now rapidly overhauling the yacht.
"How far down do you dare to take the boat?" asked Mr. Farnum, almost hesitatingly. "As far as you dare to let me," replied Jack, with spirit. "Watch the gauge, and tell me when to stop." "Jove, but you have a cool nerve, lad, if you back that up," laughed lieutenant McCrea. "Perhaps our young skipper is relying upon the caution of his employer," suggested Commander Ennerling, smiling.
" if we can do such a trick with compressed air alone," added Commander Ennerling in a tone heard only by those near him on the platform deck. "Captain Benson, what is the nearest place on this coast with a police force capable of taking charge of such a crowd." "Clyde City is about a thirty-two mile run from here, sir," Jack answered. "There's a harbor police boat there."
It's a very excellent record for speed, anyway; very remarkable," admitted the president of the board, cautiously. "Now, gentlemen, what test will you have next?" asked Mr. Farnum. "Suppose," replied Commander Ennerling, after glancing at his associates, "that you submerge the boat, on even keel, and let us see how many feet under water you dare to go with this craft?"
"There are some men, pressing back astern, yet seemingly not wholly liking to risk revolver fire," went on Commander Ennerling. "I don't believe I can make out all the mutineers, from this point of view." "What shall we do, sir, when we get alongside?" "Quell the mutiny," retorted Commander Ennerling, with emphasis. "It's the one choice a Naval officer has in a case of this sort. Briscoe! McCrea!"
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