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Updated: June 9, 2025
Other cadets were transferred from the gunboat to the submarines, and the instruction proceeded. The manœuvers for the day were ended with a half-hour run under water. “By the way, sir, did you question Truax to see what you could learn about his reasons for acting as he did on the ’Farnum’?” asked Jack Benson the next day. Jack and Doctor McCrea were talking with Mr. Mayhew.
Indeed, I shall not have the lettering on the 'Luzon's' side painted out until other officers of the fleet have been able to examine such a striking proof of the value of submarines. Yet I am extremely sorry for the feelings of Mr. McCrea this morning." In truth, Lieutenant McCrea was in for a most unmerciful tormenting by his brother officers.
Here it was that the author first attended school, which was taught that summer by Miss Rachel Lester now Mrs. McFadden. For seven seasons I attended school there under the instruction of different teachers, among whom were, Miss Sarah J. McCrea, now Mrs. George Turner, Mr. Emerson Crane, Mr. Mathew B. VanPetten, Obediah Cooper, Dennis Cooper, John B. VanPetten, and others.
"N-n-not long," answered Truax, quite truthfully. "Take this thermometer under your tongue!" Sam Truax meekly submitted, then sat, perfectly still, while Doctor McCrea paced the brig for two full minutes. Then the "sawbones" took the thermometer from between Truax's lips and inspected it keenly. "Hospital man!" rapped out Doctor McCrea, sharply.
She knew that several officers at Reynolds, her husband and McCrea among them, had invested their scant savings in that most promising venture. She knew that McCrea had vowed it would make them all rich if not famous one of these days, and that her methodical, cautious "canny Scot" of a husband had figured, pondered, and consulted long before he, too, had become convinced.
This all looked as though the "Pollard" would figure handsomely in the admiral's forthcoming reports to Washington. Ere the morning was over all the officers and men of the great war fleet were laughing at Lieutenant McCrea.
She'd sized it up at a glance, made up her mind in three minutes what was the sensible thing for them to do, written a note to Florence McCrea in Paris, and then bided her opportunity to put her idea into effect. She went out cruising with Rose in the car two or three times, looking at places, but gave her no indications that she felt more than the most languid interest in the problem.
For it is also a matter of record that Lieutenant and Quartermaster McCrea made application, as he had promised, for six months' leave of absence, with permission to go beyond sea, and with every intention of spending most of the winter in sunny Italy.
“Why, I’d—” Jack hesitated, glancing toward the gunboat’s commanding officer. “I’d better go and see how the midshipmen are doing,” laughed Mr. Mayhew, rising. For some minutes Jack talked with Doctor McCrea. As the medical officer listened, he grinned, then laughed unrestrainedly. “Mr. Benson, you’re certainly ingenious!” “Will you do what I’ve suggested?”
Eph was left in the conning tower, Lieutenant McCrea with him. "How far do you want the dive to be made, sir?" asked Jack Benson. "A depth of forty feet ought to serve the purpose," stated the president of the board. "Then, sir, we will make a sloping dive to that depth, then complete the curve until we strike the surface again," proposed the submarine boy. "How will that suit you, sir?"
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