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David Pollard, watching them at times, and guessing how they might feel under such treatment, found his good opinion of the two newcomers still rising. Stopping their work, when the order came, the workmen lighted their pipes. Jack and Hal, not liking the clouds of tobacco smoke, ran up the spiral staircase to the manhole, stepping, out upon the platform.
And, if you will accept handsome compensation, I shall be very glad to offer it." David Pollard, who had heard some of this talk through the open manhole as he lounged by the wheel, now called down to report: "There's some kind of a craft on the northern horizon throwing up searchlight signals."
Besides, seaway was needed, with the rival craft coming up behind. His work in the conning tower done, Captain Jack sprang out on the platform deck, bounding beside Lieutenant Danvers at the starboard rail. Through the manhole opening of, the tower the shipbuilder soon thrust his uncovered head. Was the torpedo, so carefully aimed, going to strike and do its work?
Oiled walrus-skin, stretched taut as a drum-head, served as a covering for the kayak against the seas, a manhole being left in the centre for the paddler to ensconce himself waist-deep, with oilskin round his waist to keep the water out. Clothing was worn fur side in, oiled side out; and the soles of all moccasins were padded with moss to protect the feet from the sharp rocks.
"But will the boat dive? How will she run under water? I must know!" "Good enough! We'll soon know, then," replied Jacob Farnum. He passed the word for Andrews, who came on deck. The ventilators were quickly shipped. Jack Benson shifted to the steersman's seat inside the conning tower. Sailing lights were turned off; the manhole cover was battened down securely.
It became really necessary to communicate with the beings, whatever they were, shut up inside the machine. I searched all over the outside for an aperture, a panel, or a manhole, to use a technical expression; but the lines of the iron rivets, solidly driven into the joints of the iron plates, were clear and uniform. Besides, the moon disappeared then, and left us in total darkness.
"Oh, Polly, my love and my lady!" and his sword flashed and sang and swept against the sky. "Grenadiers!" rang an imperious voice from out of the ground. Kit jumped round. The Gentleman's head was thrust through the manhole; his eyes sweeping the greensward. Fighting Fitz had seized the situation in a glance. Could he thrust his Grenadiers between the boys and the cottage, victory was his.
"If," said he thoughtfully, "a man was to come an' tell me a story like that, I'd call 'im a liar." Twice or thrice before finishing his job he paused to listen again, but heard nothing. Still in musing mood, he scraped up the loose coal that lay around the manhole, shovelled it in, re-fixed the cover, and tossed his shovel on board.
He was letting himself down through the manhole in the stable loft when Swan's voice, lowered almost to a whisper, startled him. "What the hell!" Lone ejaculated under his breath. "I thought you were on another trail!" "That trail leads here, Lone. Did you find Raine yet?" "Not a sign of her. Swan, I don't know what to make of it. I did think them two were stalling.
He recommended a nip of brandy, and set me the example, and presently I felt better. I turned the manhole stopper back again. The throbbing in my ears grew louder, and then I remarked that the piping note of the outrush had ceased. For a time I could not be sure that it had ceased. "Well?" said Cavor, in the ghost of a voice. "Well?" said I. "Shall we go on?" I thought. "Is this all?"
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