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Right behind him followed Hal. As the two gained the doorway of the engine room Sam Truax had his back turned to them, and so did not note the sudden watchers. There was a smile of malicious triumph on Truax’s face as he turned a lever a little way over, thus decreasing the ignition power of the motors.
Barely three minutes more passed when Doctor McCrea hurried below, bustling along to the door of the brig. He, in turn, shot a keen look at Truax through the bars, then commanded: "Sentry, unlock the door! Let me in there!" In another moment Doctor McCrea was feeling the prisoner's pulse. "How long have you been feeling out of sorts?" asked the medical man, briefly.
Down dropped the bag, striking Jack Benson on the top of the head, sending him unconscious to the ground. Close at hand there was a loose board in the fence. Through this Sam Truax thrust his head, peering up and down the street. Not another soul was in sight. With a chuckle Truax stepped through the hole in the fence.
"I I didn't do it on my own account," confessed Truax. "Did you ever hear of Tip Gaynor?" "No never," admitted Jack, after a moment's thought. "He's he's a salesman, or something like that, for Sidenham." "The Sidenham Submarine Company?" breathed Jack Benson, intensely interested. "Yes." "The Sidenham people are our nearest competitors in the submarine business," muttered young Benson.
Pausing only long enough to learn that Jack’s pulses were beating, and that the submarine boy was breathing, Truax stole off into the night, carrying the bag of sand under his overcoat. At one point he paused long enough to empty the sand from the bag over a fence. The bag itself he afterwards burned in the open fireplace in the room assigned to him at Holt’s Hotel.
"You might let me do a little something," growled Sam Truax, in a tone intentionally offensive. "Don't forget, Truax, that I'm in command in this department," retorted Hal, in a quieter tone than usual, though with a direct, steady look that made Sam Truax turn white with repressed wrath. "You won't let me forget it, will you?" snarled the fellow.
"This man is all yours, corporal." Truax was foolish enough to try to hang back on his conductors. A slight jab through the clothing from one of the marines' bayonets caused the prisoner to stop that trick. He was taken on deck and over the side. "Coxswain, return for me after you've taken the prisoner to the 'Hudson," directed Mr Mayhew. "Now, Mr.
“You—here?” hissed Truax, wheeling about. He had not had time to make the thrust with the steel bar. Instead, as he wheeled, he raised it above his head, drawing back in an attitude of guard. As he did so, a vile oath escaped Truax’s lips. “Put that bar down!” commanded Jack Benson, standing unflinchingly before the angry rascal.
Farnum appears and gives the order." "I understand," said the night watchman, nodding. "That's all, then, and thank you." Jack Benson hastily rejoined the others on the sidewalk "I don't believe, Mr. Truax, it will be worth your while to come here earlier than eight in the morning. Better go to the hotel and tie up to a good sleep. Good night."
After the members were duly seated according to rank, with Maj. Truax at the head of the table, Lieut. Bowersox read the order for holding the court, and called the names of the members. He then said: "Gentlemen, the first case I shall present to your notice is one of exceeding gravity, affecting a member of my own regiment.
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