Victor G. Durham - The Submarine Boys and the Middies

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Note: This is book three of eight of the Submarine Boys Series.

THE SUBMARINE BOYS AND THE MIDDIES

The Prize Detail at Annapolis

by

VICTOR G. DURHAM

1909

CONTENTS

CHAPTERS
I. The Prize Detail
II. How Eph Flirted with Science
III. "You May as Well Leave the Bridge"
IV. Mr. Farnum Offers Another Guess
V. Truax Shows the Sulks
VI. Two Kinds of VooDoo
VII. Jack Finds Something "New," All Right
VIII. A Young Captain in Tatters
IX. Truax Gives a Hint
X. A Squint at the Camelroorelephant
XI. But Something Happened!
XII. Jack Benson, Expert Explainer
XIII. Ready for the Sea Cruise
XIV. The "Pollard" Goes Lame
XV. Another Turn at Hard Luck
XVI. Braving Nothing But a Sneak
XVII. The Evil Genius of the Water Front
XVIII. Held Up by Marines
XIX. The Lieutenant Commander's Verdict
XX. Coming Up in a tight Place
XXI. "No More Men Go Overboard!"
XXII. Jack Signals the "Sawbones"
XXIII. What Befell the Man in the Brig
XXIV. Conclusion

CHAPTER I

THE PRIZE DETAIL

"The United States Government doesn't appear very anxious to claim its
property, does it, sir?" asked Captain Jack Benson.

The speaker was a boy of sixteen, attired in a uniform much after the
pattern commonly worn by yacht captains. The insignia of naval rank
were conspicuously absent.

"Now, that I've had the good luck to sell the 'Pollard' to the Navy,"
responded Jacob Farnum, principal owner of the shipbuilding yard, "I'm
not disposed to grumble if the Government prefers to store its property
here for a while."

Yet the young shipbuilder--he was a man in his early thirties, who had
inherited this shipbuilding business from his father--allowed his eyes
to twinkle in a way that suggested there was something else behind his
words.

Jack Benson saw that twinkle, but he did not ask questions. If the
shipbuilder knew more than he was prepared to tell, it was not for his
young captain to ask for information that was not volunteered.

The second boy present, also in uniform, Hal Hastings by name, had not
spoken in five minutes. That was like Hal. He was the engineer of the
submarine torpedo boat, "Pollard." Jack was captain of the same craft,
and could do all the talking.

Jacob Farnum sat back, sideways, at his rolltop desk. On top of the
desk lay stacked a voluminous though neat pile of papers, letters,
telegrams and memoranda that some rival builders of submarine torpedo
boats might have been willing to pay much for the privilege of examining.
For, at the present moment, there was fierce competition in the air
between rival American builders of submarine fighting craft designed
for the United States Navy. Even foreign builders and inventors were
clamoring for recognition. Yet just now the reorganized Pollard
Submarine Boat Company stood at the top of the line. It had made the
last sale to the United States Navy Department.

At this moment, out in the little harbor that was a part of the shipyard,
the "Pollard" rode gently at anchor. She was the first submarine
torpedo boat built at this yard, after the designs of David Pollard,
the inventor, a close personal friend of Jacob Farnum.

Moreover, the second boat, named the "Farnum," had just been launched
and put in commission, ready at an hour's notice to take the sea in
search of floating enemies of the United States.

"The United States will take its boat one of these days, Captain," Mr.
Farnum continued, after lighting a cigar. "By the way, did Dave tell
you the name we are thinking of for the third boat, now on the stocks?"

"Dave" was Mr. Pollard, the inventor of the Pollard Submarine boat.

"No, sir," Captain Jack replied.

"We have thought," resumed Mr. Farnum, quietly, after blowing out a
ring of smoke, "of calling the third boat, now building, the 'Benson.'"

"The--the--what, sir?" stammered Jack, flushing and rising.

"Now, don't get excited, lad," laughed the Shipbuilder.

"But--but--naming a boat for the United States Navy after me, sir--"

Captain Jack's face flushed crimson.

"Of course, if you object--" smiled Mr. Farnum, then paused.

"Object? You know I don't, sir. But I am afraid the idea is going to
my head," laughed Jack, his face still flushed. "The very idea of there
being in the United States Navy a fine and capable craft named after
me--"

"Oh, if the Navy folks object," laughed Farnum, "then they'll change the
name quickly enough. You understand, lad, the names we give to our
boats last only until the craft are sold. The Navy people can change
those names if they please."

"It will be a handsome compliment to me, Mr. Farnum. More handsome than
deserved, I fear."

"Deserved, well enough," retorted the shipbuilder. "Dave Pollard and I
are well enough satisfied that, if it hadn't been for you youngsters,
and the superb way in which you handled our first boat, Dave and I
would still be sitting on the anxious bench in the ante-rooms of the
Navy Department at Washington."

"Well, I don't deserve to have a boat named after me any more than Hal
does, or Eph Somers."

"Give us time, won't you, Captain?" pleaded Jacob Farnum, his face
straight, but his eyes laughing. "We expect to build at least five
boats. If we didn't, this yard never would have been fitted for the
present work, and you three boys, who've done so handsomely by us,
wouldn't each own, as you now do, ten shares of stock in this company.
Never fear; there'll be a 'Hastings' and a 'Somers' added to our fleet
one of these days--even though some of our boats have to be sold to
foreign governments."

"If a boat named the 'Hastings' were sold to some foreign government,"
laughed Jack Benson, "Hal, here, wouldn't say much about it. But call
a boat named the 'Somers,' after Eph, and then sell it, say, to the
Germans or the Japanese, and all of Eph's American gorge would come to
the surface. I'll wager he'd scheme to sink any submarine torpedo boat,
named after him, that was sold to go under a foreign flag."

"I hope we'll never have to sell any of our boats to foreign
governments," replied Jacob Farnum, earnestly. "And we won't either, if
the United States Government will give us half a show."

"That's just the trouble," grumbled Hal Hastings, breaking into the talk,
at last. "Confound it, why don't the people of this country run their
government more than they do? Four-fifths of the inventors who get up
great things that would put the United States on top, and keep us there,
have to go abroad to find a market for their inventions! If I could
invent a cannon to-day that would give all the power on earth to the
nation owning it, would the American Government buy it from me? No,
sir! I'd have to sell the cannon to England, Germany or Japan--or
else starve while Congress was talking of doing something about it in
the next session. Mr. Farnum, you have the finest, and the only real
submarine torpedo boat. Yet, if you want to go on building and
selling these craft, you'll have to dispose of most of them abroad."

"I hope not," responded the shipbuilder, solemnly.

Having said his say, Hal subsided. He was likely not to speak again for
an hour. As a class, engineers, having to listen much to noisy
machinery, are themselves silent.

It was well along in the afternoon, a little past the middle of October.
For our three young friends, Jack, Hal and Eph, things were dull just
at the present moment. They were drawing their salaries from the
Pollard company, yet of late there had been little for them to do.

Yet the three submarine boys knew that big things were in the air.
David Pollard was away, presumably on important business. Jacob Farnum
was not much given to speaking of plans until he had put them through
to the finish. Some big deal was at present "on" with the Government.
That much the submarine boys knew by intuition. They felt, therefore,
that, at any moment, they were likely to be called into action--to be
called upon for big things.

As Jack and Hal sat in the office, silent, while Jacob Farnum turned to
his desk to scan one of the papers lying there, the door opened. A boy
burst in, waving a yellow envelope.

"Operator said to hustle this wire to you," shouted the boy, panting a
bit. "Said it might be big news for Farnum. So I ran all the way."

Jacob Farnum took the yellow envelope, opening it and glancing hastily
through the contents.

"It _is_ pretty good news," assented the shipbuilder, a smile wreathing
his face. "This is for you, messenger."

"This" proved to be a folded dollar bill. The messenger took the money
eagerly, then demanded, more respectfully:

"Any answer, sir?"

"Not at this moment, thank you," replied Mr. Farnum. "That is all; you
may go, boy."

Plainly the boy who had brought the telegram was disappointed over not
getting some inkling of the secret. All Dunhaven, in fact, was wildly
agog over any news that affected the Farnum yard. For, though the
torpedo boat building industry was now known under the Pollard name,
after the inventor of these boats, the yard itself still went under the
Farnum name that young Farnum had inherited from his father.

While Jacob Farnum is reading the despatch carefully, for a better
understanding, let us speak for a moment of Captain Jack Benson and his
youthful comrades and chums.

Readers of the first volume in this series, "_The Submarine Boys on
Duty_," remember how Jack Benson and Hal Hastings strayed into the
little seaport town of Dunhaven one hot summer day, and how they learned
that it was here that the then unknown but much-talked about Pollard
submarine was being built. Both Jack and Hal had been well trained in
machine shops; they had spent much time aboard salt water power craft,
and so felt a wild desire to work at the Farnum yard, and to make a study
of submarine craft in general.

How they succeeded in getting their start in the Farnum yard, every
reader of the preceding volumes knows; how, too, Eph Somers, a native of
Dunhaven, managed to "cheek" his way aboard the craft after she had been
launched, and how he had always since managed to remain there.

Our same older readers will remember the thrilling experiences of this
boyish trio during the early trials of the new submarine torpedo boat,
both above and below the surface. These readers will remember, also,
for instance, the great prank played by the boys on the watch officer of
one of the stateliest battleships of the Navy.

Readers of the second volume, "_The Submarine Boys' Trial Trip_," will
recall, among other things, the desperate efforts made by. George
Melville, the capitalist, aided by the latter's disagreeable son, Don, to
acquire stealthy control of the submarine building company, and their
efforts to oust Jack, Hal and Eph from their much-prized employment.
These readers will remember how Jack and his comrades spoiled the
Melville plans, and how Captain Jack and his friends handled the
"Pollard" so splendidly, in the presence of a board of Navy officers,
that the United States Government was induced to buy that first submarine
craft.

After that sale, each of the three boys received, in addition to his
regular pay, a bank account of a thousand dollars and ten shares of stock
in the new company. Moreover, Messrs. Farnum and Pollard had felt
wholly justified in promising these talented, daring, hustling submarine
boys an assured and successful future.

Jacob Farnum at last looked up from the final reading of the telegram in
his hands. Captain Jack Benson's gaze was fixed on his employer's face.
Hal Hastings was looking out of a window, with almost a bored look in
his eyes.

"You young men wanted action," announced Mr. Farnum, quietly. "I think
you'll get it."

"Soon!" questioned Jack, eagerly.

"Immediately, or a minute or two later," laughed the shipbuilder.

"I'm ready," declared Captain Jack, rising.

"It'll take you a little time to hear about it all and digest it, so you
may as well be seated again," declared Farnum.

Hal, too, wandered back to his chair.

"You've been wondering how much longer the Government would leave the
'Pollard' here," went on Mr. Farnum. "I am informed that the gunboat
'Hudson' is on her way here, to take over the 'Pollard.'"

"What are the Navy folks going to do!" demanded Captain Jack, all but
wrathfully. "Do they propose to _tow_ that splendid little craft away!"

"Hardly that, I imagine," replied Farnum. "It's the custom of the United
States Navy, you know, to send a gunboat along with every two or three
submarines. They call the larger craft the 'parent boat'. The parent
boat looks out for any submarine craft that may become disabled."

"The cheek of it," vented Jack, disgustedly. "Why, sir, I'd volunteer to
take the 'Pollard,' unassisted, around the world, if she could carry fuel
enough for such a trip."

"But the Navy hasn't been accustomed to such capable submarine boats as
ours, you know," replied Mr. Farnum. "Hence the parent boat."

"Parent boat!" interjected Hal Hastings, with his quiet smile. "You
might call it the 'Dad' boat, so to speak."

Mr. Farnum laughed, then continued:

"A naval crew will take possession of the 'Pollard,' and the craft will
proceed, under the care of the Dad boat"--with a side glance of
amusement at Hal--"to the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis."

"Annapolis--where they train the naval cadets, the midshipmen, into
United States Naval officers? Oh, how I'd like to go there!" breathed
Captain Jack Benson, eagerly.

"As a cadet in the Navy, do you mean!" asked Mr. Farnum.

"Why, that would have been well enough," assented Jack, "before I had
such a chance in your submarine service. No; I mean I'd like to see
Annapolis. I'd like to watch the midshipmen at their training, and see
the whole naval life there."

"It's too bad every fellow can't have his wish gratified as easily,"
continued Jacob Farnum.

"Do you mean we're going to Annapolis, too?" asked Jack Benson, his
eyes glowing. Even Hal Hastings sat up straighter in his chair, watching
the shipbuilder's face closely.

"Yes," nodded Jacob Farnum. "Permission has been granted for me to send
our second boat, the 'Farnum,' along with the 'Pollard'--both under the
care of the--"

"The Dad boat," laughed Hastings.

"Yes; that will give us a chance to have the 'Farnum' studied most
closely by some of the most capable officers in the United States Navy.
It ought to mean, presently, the sale of the 'Farnum' to the Government."

"That's just what it will mean," promised Captain Jack, "if any efforts
of ours can make the Navy men more interested in the boat."

"You three youngsters are likely to be at Annapolis for some time," went
on Mr. Farnum. "In fact--but don't let your heads become too enlarged
by the news, will you!"

Hal, quiet young Hal, neatly hid a yawn behind one hand, while Benson
answered for both:

"We're already wearing the largest-sized caps manufactured, Mr. Farnum.
Don't tempt us too far, please!"

"Oh, you boys are safe from the ordinary perils of vanity, or your heads
would have burst long ago. Well, then, when you arrive at Annapolis,
you three are to act as civilian instructors to the middies. You three
are to teach the midshipmen of the United States Navy the principles on
which the Pollard type of boat is run. There; I've told you the whole
news. What do you think of it!"

Mr. Farnum's cigar having burned low, he tossed it away, then leaned back
as he lighted another weed.

"What do we think, sir?" echoed Captain Jack, eagerly. "Why, we think
we're in sight of the very time of our lives! Annapolis! And to teach
the middies how to run a 'Pollard' submarine."

"How soon are we likely to have to start, sir!" asked Hal Hastings, after
a silence that lasted a few moments.

"Whenever the 'Hudson' shows up along this coast, and the officer in
command of her gives the word. That may be any hour, now."

"Then we'd better find Eph," suggested Captain Jack, "and pass him the
word. Won't Eph Somers dance a jig for delight, though!"

"Yes; we'd better look both boats over at once," replied Mr Farnum,
picking up his hat "And we'll leave word for Grant Andrews and some of
his machinists to inspect both craft with us. There may be a few things
that will need to be done."

As they left the office, crossing the yard, Captain Jack Benson and Hal
Hastings felt exactly as though they were walking on air. Even Hal,
quiet as he was, had caught the joy-infection of these orders to proceed
to Annapolis. To be sent to the United States Naval Academy on a tour
of instruction is what officers of the Navy often call "the prize
detail."

Farnum and his two youthful companions went, first of all, to the long,
shed-like building in which the third submarine craft to be turned out
at this yard was now being built. From inside came the noisy clang of
hammers against metal. The shipbuilder stepped inside alone, but soon
came out, nodding. The three now continued on their way down to the
little harbor. All of a sudden the three stopped short, almost with a
jerk, in the same second, as though pulled by a string.

At exactly the same instant Jacob Farnum, Captain Jack Benson and
Engineer Hal Hastings put up their hands to rub their eyes.

Their senses had told them truly, however. While the "Pollard" rode
serenely at her moorings, the "Farnum," the second boat to be launched,
was nowhere to be seen!

"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.

"A submarine boat can't slip its own cables and vanish without human
hands!" gasped the staggered Jack Benson.

"There's something uncanny about this," muttered Hal Hastings.

Jacob Farnum stood rooted to the spot, opening and closing his hands in
a way that testified plainly to the extent of his bewilderment.

CHAPTER II

HOW EPH FLIRTED WITH SCIENCE

Jack Benson was the first of the trio to move.

Without a word he broke into a run, heading for the narrow little shingle
of beach.

"Got an idea, Captain?" shouted Jacob Farnum, darting after his young
submarine skipper.

"Yes, sir!" floated back over Jack's shoulder.

"Then what's at the bottom--"

"Eph and the boat, both together, or I miss my guess," Captain Jack
shouted back as he halted at the water's edge, where a rowboat lay hauled
up on the shore.

Jacob Farnum's face showed suddenly pallid as he, also, reached the
beach. Hal, who was in the rear, did not seem so much startled.

"Do you think Eph has gone off on a cruise all alone?--that he has come
to any harm?" gasped the shipbuilder.

"I don't know, but I'm not going to worry a mite about Eph Somers until
I have to," retorted Jack Benson, easily.

"Eph can generally take care of himself," added Hal Hastings. "He
rarely falls into any kind of scrape that he can't climb out of."

"But this is a bad time for him to take the 'Farnum' and cruise away,"
objected the owner of the yard. "The 'Hudson' may be here at any hour,
you know, and we ought to be ready for orders."

As he spoke, Mr. Farnum scanned the horizon away to the south, out over
the sea.

"There's a line of smoke, now, and not many miles away," he announced
"It may, as likely as not, be smoke from the 'Hudson's' pipe."

"Going out with us, sir!" inquired Captain Jack Benson, as Hal took his
place at a pair of oars.

"Yes," nodded the owner of the yard, dropping into a seat at the stern
of the boat, after which Benson pushed off at the bow.

Down on the seashore, on this day just past the middle of October, the
air was keen and brisk. There had been frost for several nights past.
Sleighing might be looked for in another month.

"Cable's gone from this buoy," declared Captain Jack, as Hal rowed close.
"Over to the other one, old fellow."

Here, too, the cable was missing. Evidently the "Farnum" had made a
clean get-away. If there had been any accident, it must have taken
place after the new submarine boat had slipped away from her moorings.

"Humph!" grunted Jack, scanning the sea. "No sign of the boat anywhere.
Eph may be anywhere within twenty miles of here."

"Or within twenty feet, either," grinned Hal, looking down into the
waters that were lead colored under the dull autumn sky.

"What are we going to do, Captain?" inquired Jacob Farnum. "There are
Grant Andrews and three of his machinists coming down to the water."

"I reckon, sir, we'd better put them aboard the 'Pollard' first, sir,"
Benson suggested.

Mr. Farnum nodding, the boat was rowed in to the shore and Andrews and
his men were put aboard the "Pollard" at the platform deck. Captain
Jack Benson unlocking the door to the conning tower, was himself the
first to disappear down below. When he came back he carried a line to
which was attached a heavy sounding-lead.

"It won't take us long to sound the deep spots in this little harbor,"
said the young skipper, as he dropped down once more into the bow of the
shore boat. "Row about, Hal, over the places where the submarine could
go below out of sight."

As Hal rowed, Skipper Jack industriously used the sounding-lead.

For twenty minutes nothing resulted from this exploration. Then, all of
a sudden, Benson shouted:

"Back water, Hal! Easy; rest on your oars. Steady!"

Jack Benson raised the lead two or three feet, then let it down again,
playing it up and down very much as a cod fisherman uses his line and
hook.

"I'm hitting something, and it is hardly a rock, either," declared young
Benson. "Pull around about three points to starboard, Hal, then steal
barely forward."

Again Benson played see-saw with his sounding-line over the boat's
gunwale.

"If my lead isn't hitting the 'Farnum,'" declared the young skipper,
positively, "then it's the 'Farnum's' ghost. Hold steady, now, Hal."

Immediately afterward, Benson caused the lead fairly to dance a jig on
whatever it touched at bottom.

"What's the good of that, anyway?" demanded Jacob Farnum.

"You don't think I'm doing this just for fun, do you, sir?" asked
Captain Jack, with a smile.

"No; I know you generally have an object when you do anything unusual,"
responded the shipbuilder, good-humoredly.

"You know, of course, sir, that noises sound with a good deal of
exaggeration when you hear them under water?"

"Yes; of course."

"You also know that all three of us have been practicing at telegraphy a
good deal during the past few weeks, because every man who follows the
sea ought to know how to send and receive wireless messages at need."

"Yes; I know that, Benson."

"Well, sir, I guess that the lead has been hitting the top of the
'Farmun's' hull, and I've been tapping out the signal--"

"The signal, 'Come up--rush!'" broke in Hal, with an odd smile.

"Right-o," nodded Jack Benson.

"How on earth did you know what the signal was, Hastings?" demanded
Mr. Farnum.

"Why, sir, I've been sitting so that I could see Jack's arm. I've been
reading, from the motions of his right arm, the dots and dashes of the
Morse telegraph alphabet."

"You youngsters certainly get me, for the things you think of," laughed
the shipyard's owner.

"And the 'Farnum,' or whatever it is, is coming up," called Captain Jack,
suddenly. "I just felt my lead slide down over the top of her hull.
Hard-a-starboard, Hal, and row hard," shouted young Benson, breathlessly.

Though Hastings obeyed immediately he was barely an instant too soon.
To his dismay, Mr. Farnum saw something dark, unwieldly, rising through
the water. It appeared to be coming up fairly under the stern of the
shore boat, threatening to overturn the little craft and plunge them all
into the icy water.

Hal shot just out of the danger zone, though. Then a round little tower
bobbed up out of the water. Immediately afterward the upper third of a
long, cigar-shaped craft came up into view, water rolling from her
dripping sides, which glistened brightly as the sun came out briefly
from behind a fall cloud.

In the conning tower, through the thick plate glass, the three people in
the shore boat made out the carroty-topped head and freckled,
good-humored, honest, homely face of Eph Somers. The boat lay on the
water, under no headway, drifting slightly with the wind-driven ripples.
Then Eph raised the man-hole cover of the top of the conning tower,
thrusting out his head to hail them.

"Hey, you landsmen, do you know a buoy from an umbrella!"

"Do _you_ know the difference between a Sunday-school text and petty
larceny?" retorted Jack Benson, sternly. "What do you mean by taking the
submarine without leave?"

"I've been experimenting--flirting with science," responded Eph,
loftily. "Say, if you landsmen know a buoy from a banana, get down to
the bow moorings of this steel mermaid, and I'll pass you the bow cable.
It's a heap easier to lead this submarine horse out of the stall,
single-handed, than it is to take him back and tie him."

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