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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Play our one trump card, and play it as hard as you can! Though I'm afraid Rhinds has just such a card in his own pack." Then up to the platform deck hastened Jack Benson. He moved quietly to the wheel, taking it from Eph. The young captain did not propose to leave again until the race was over. Soon after this something happened that must have made those aboard the Rhinds boat feel uneasy.
John C. Rhinds allowed his face to express more surprise than concern over this news. "Oh, well," he remarked, "boys will be boys, you know especially when they're sailors." "Our boys are not that sort," retorted Mr. Farnum, sharply. "They are not hoodlums or racketers." "Then of course you'll find 'em safe on one of your boats," proposed Mr. Rhinds, innocently.
Now, at night, all looked so different to him that he had no idea whether or not he was being driven in the right direction. He left all that to the driver, as most people do when employing cabs. "I'd like just a little peep-in at Rhinds tonight," thought Jack, as he settled back against the comfortable upholstery. "I reckon he knows, by this time, something of the way of the transgressor."
Rhinds is, for he always takes a walk in the evening, after dinner. Now, I've discovered the place where they serve the finest hot soda chocolate, at that. I wanted to invite all hands there. But I'm afraid Rhinds and your employers may come out and be looking for us. Benson, do you feel like remaining here, to guide them along, while I take your comrades up to the place?
"Why did you do that fool thing?" whispered Rhinds, with a dark look at his secretary. "Why did I fail, you mean?" hissed Radwin. "Oh, don't try to throw any reproaches at me, now. You were willing enough to help me send that torpedo over at the 'Hastings." "I can't understand how the torpedo missed," shivered Rhinds. "Well, you were at the wheel," retorted Radwin in a low undertone.
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.
Too-oot! toot! toot! sounded sharply, hoarsely, from the deep throat of the "Chelsea's" whistle. "Good enough," muttered Lieutenant Danvers. "They've ordered the Rhinds scooter to slow clown and fall into line behind the gunboat." "I'm sorry," muttered Hal. "Why?" asked the naval lieutenant. "I wish they had let old Rhinds go ahead and get all his machinery red-hot at the outset."
Like many another cur, in the hour when he finds himself driven to the wall, John Rhinds had sent for his wife and daughter. He proposed to escape from the consequences of his rascally acts by hiding behind the skirts of pure and good women who had the strange fortune to have their lives linked with his. "What is all this that I have heard, sir?" asked Mrs.
He stepped over and tried the knob of the door. Finding the bolt shot, Chief Ward promptly put his stalwart shoulder to the door. At the second bump the door yielded. Ward burst into the next room, then on to the third. "Why did you trick me, Mr. Rhinds?" called the chief, angrily. "I? Why I " Radwin was not to be found.
"Alcohol isn't cement," replied Mr. Farnum, mildly. "At least, not with our party. The time was, I admit, Mr. Rhinds, when business men often tried to cement a business friendship with wine or liquor. But those times have gone by. Drinking is out of date, nowadays. The keenest and most dependable business men are those who do not drink.
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