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"Do you see this?" asked the shipbuilder, holding out the slip of paper. "Another warning, I suppose?" Benson ventured. "Yes; and it shows that you are being followed and watched. Something worse is almost certain yet to happen." Jack took the slip of paper, reading these printed words: "You have been fairly warned. Are you going to be a fool? Obey, or " That was all.
"I shall have to be satisfied with whatever share of the business my company can secure, of course," replied the shipbuilder. "Yet we know, and so does everyone, that we have proved the Pollard type of boat to be better than its nearest rival." "Well, success to you all, and the largest measure of it possible!" wished Lieutenant Danvers, rising and shaking hands warmly all around.
The Indian then has his canoe fit for use; and he may well boast of a boat, which, for combined strength and lightness, and especially for capacity of burden, no art of the shipbuilder has ever been able to surpass, and which, if it has not already, might serve for a model of the best lifeboat ever constructed, in these days of boasted perfection in marine arts and improvements.
"Jack Benson is always courteous with women." "But aren't you afraid your young captain will have his head turned by her?" pressed the reporter. "Who? Jack?" laughed Mr. Farnum. "Say, it's very plain you don't know Jack Benson." The shipbuilder, two of the submarine boys and the reporter were seated by themselves at one end of the Hotel Clayton's big front veranda.
“What on earth has happened to the other submarine?” gasped the shipbuilder, as soon as he could somewhat control his voice. What, indeed? There was not a sign of her. At least, she had not sunk at her moorings, for the buoys floated in their respective places, with no manner of tackle attached to them.
However, they were not long to be kept in doubt, for Jacob Farnum had moved hastily to the outer door. "Good day, friends!" called the shipbuilder, as he pulled the outer door open, for he recognized most of the faces of men and women in the crowd. "What's wrong, friends!" At the very doorstep the leaders of the crowd halted. "The 'Mary Bond' isn't in yet, Mr. Farnum," called one of the men.
Farnum, then on Captain Jack. "Ladies," confessed the Dunhaven shipbuilder, "you've already said enough, as I looked at your faces, to make me almost feel that I am one of the worst men alive." "Oh, no, no, no!" protested the girl. "You are going to prove yourself the most generous." Then, turning, the girl caught at one of Benson's hands appealingly. "You urge him!" she begged.
"What can have happened?" wondered Captain Jack, as he and his chum waved their hands in greeting; then stood staring. "Surprised, eh, lads?" laughingly demanded Jacob Farnum, who had stolen up behind them. "Yes; what's wrong?" asked Jack. "Nothing," replied the shipbuilder. "Then what are Andrews and the other men doing here?" "Do you notice," hinted Mr.
John C. Rhinds, and my belief as to what he did or tried to do to us, I can't say I'm deeply grieved," returned the shipbuilder. Then time shipbuilder looked around him, at all three of the submarine boys, as he went on: "Lads, we've been cramped up on this boat long enough, so I'm going to take you ashore this evening. But remember not a word to reporters, or to anyone else.
As they entered the office a scene of "solid comfort" met their eyes. Shipbuilder and naval officer were lounging in easy chairs, smoking Havanas until the air was thick and white with the smoke. "Sailing orders, Jack," announced Farnum. "All right, sir," nodded the young skipper, looking at his watch. "I can pull out inside of twelve minutes." "But you don't have to," laughed Farnum.
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