thees SUBMARINE BOYS AND THE SMUGGLERS VICTOR G.DURHAM © Go SUBMARINE BOYS UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN GIQUARIS PENINSULAM AMOENAM L2:17 unul ARTES SCIENTIA VERITAS LIBRARY OF THE TCEBOR CIRCUMSPICE To Edward hace برای بیمه Ga eld a ha hefpey bithtay try to Jack Went Over the Rail, Splash! Frontispiece. The Submarine Boys and the Smugglers OR Breaking Up the New Jersey Customs Frauds By VICTOR G. DURHAM Author of The Submarine Boys on Duty, The Submarine Bogel Trial Trip, The Submarine Boys and the Middies, The Submarine Boys and the Spies, The Submarine Boys' Lightning Cruise, The Sub- marine Boys for the Flag, etc., etc. Illustrated PHILADELPHIA HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY ist Coll. COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY HOWARD E. ALTEMUS pec, Chil 37357, sull.2006 terruas Prints and Maps 2.-25-200 CONTENTS PAGB 7 29 48 55 63 72 82 CHAPTER I. ASSIGNED TO STRANGE SEA DUTY... II. JACK MEETS SKIPPER REDBEARD. III. MAKING A BID FOR TROUBLE. IV. ONE WAY TO SOOTHE A DOG. V. JAKE GROWS REALLY WEIRD. VI. HAL TAKES A HAND NEXT. VII. PLAYING FLIP-FLOP WITH DANGER.. VIII. BENSON TRIES HIS HAND AT HUMOR. IX. WIRELESS WAFTS A WAIL OF TRAGEDY. X. ON THE SCENE OF AN OCEAN DISASTER. XI. “WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST!”. XII. JACK PROMISES TO SAVE HIMSELF LAST., XIII. A GLORIOUS BIT OF WORK... XIV. WINNING THE PRESIDENT'S THANKS. XV. NED'S GET-RICK-QUICKLY SCHEME.. XVI. THE SALT WATER SCOUT.. XVII. WALLY WIMPINS, MAN OF VENGEANCE.. XVIII. JAKE SEES A "REALLY” SPECTRE. XIX. WATCHING THE OCEAN PREY... XX. JACK CALLS FOR THE THREE-POUNDER. XXI. ACTION ALL IN A MINUTE. XXII. SKIPPER REDBEARD'S MANEUVRE. XXIII. ODDS OF NINE TO Two..... XXIV. CONCLUSION . 103 113 122 130 137 147 154 166 177 186 193 200 205 221 225 234 8 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “I'm hardly thinking he will, my laddybuck," chuckled the messenger. “No familiarity, if you please," rejoined the caller, coolly, and with no sign of displeasure in his face. “Are you going to take my name in at once?" Some apprentice seaman, maybe,” thought Krumm shrewdly, looking the youth over in de- tail. “Ye can't tell these apprentice seamen from gentlemen when they get on land with their shore money in their pockets." “Are you going to take my name in?'' Benson insisted. “Maybe ye have a card about you?” suggested the messenger, grinning more broadly. “Oh, is that what you are waiting for?” in- quired Jack unruffled. “I believe you're right about that, my man." From an inner pocket Benson drew forth a morocco card case, the corners of which were ornamented with silver. From the case he drew forth an engraved visiting card, which he tend- ered that messenger. Krumm glanced at it. All he saw was, “John Benson, U. S. N.," and this might mean, after all, that the caller was merely an apprentice or at most a petty officer. But the card was of the kind carried by commissioned officers in the United States Navy. AND THE SMUGGLERS 9 "Maybe, you're a midshipman, from Annap- olis?” suggested Krumm, glancing up from the card. “I might be—true," nodded Jack. “As a mat- ter of fact I am an acting lieutenant, junior grade.” All the banter fled at once from the messen- ger's face and tone. He straightened up, mak- ing an awkward attempt at a salute. “I beg your pardon, sir, but you looked so young,” murmured the messenger apologetic- ally. “It will take me some years to outgrow that defect," Benson replied, with a slight smile. “But what are you going to do with that card, my man?" “Pardon me, sir; I'm taking it in at once," replied the messenger, with another clumsy sa- lute. He vanished through the nearest door. Jack did not take one of the chairs, for he hardly expected to be kept waiting long. It was a beautiful spring morning, but spring, in Washington, is as warm as summer in many other places, so Benson had worn a straw hat with his neat gray sack suit. His russet shoes were immaculate in their gloss. From top to toe young Benson's attire was faultless. Within a space of ninety seconds the messen- ger returned, walking briskly. 10 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “The chief clerk desires you to report to him at once, sir,” said Krumm respectfully. “Shall I take you in, sir?” “I'm capable of moving under my own steam, thank you, messenger," Jack laughed. The messenger held the door open for him, closing it after the young lieutenant had passed through. “Good morning, sir," was Jack's greeting, as he stepped up to Mr. Packard's desk. “Ah, good morning, Mr. Benson," replied the chief clerk, rising and offering his hand. “I'll see if the Secretary is disengaged. Will you be seated?" Benson, however, remained on his feet while the chief clerk hastened through another door. He was back, almost at once. “The Secretary is disengaged, and will see you now, Mr. Benson." “Thank you, sir." As Benson entered the inner office he saw the great man of the Navy bent over his desk, sign- ing paper after paper. So the young officer did not advance, but stood by the door, hat in hand, without making a sound. At last the Secretary looked up. “Ah, good morning, Mr. Benson." “Good morning, sir.” As the Secretary arose, extending his hand AND THE SMUGGLERS 11 to the submarine boy, Benson stepped briskly forward. “Have a seat, Mr. Benson,” continued Mr. Sanders, the Secretary. Jack appropriated the chair pointed out to him. He sat very erect, looking straight into the Secretary's face. “Let me see; where are you at present ??" in- quired the Secretary. Briefly the temptation came to Benson to re- ply that he believed he was in the United States Navy Department at Washington. The Secre- tary, however, was not one to be treated with levity, so the young officer answered: “Mr. Hastings, Mr. Somers and myself have been stationed at the Norfolk Navy Yard, sir, for the last month, where we have been awaiting orders. From there we came to Washington to- day, sir, and are stopping at the Arlington. “You've been on waiting orders ?” repeated the Secretary, who was too important an official to be expected to know the whereabouts and per- formances of all the officers in the Navy. “Let me see." Rummaging among some papers Mr. Sanders finally drew forth a sheet and glanced at it. “We have not been doing much with our sub- marine boats of late, Mr. Benson. Let me see, your last craft was- 12 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “The ‘Sudbury,'sir,” Jack informed him. “Quite right,” nodded the Secretary. “That boat is now laid up in reserve. I have decided to order yourself and your two associates to the 'Grant.' Have you ever seen the craft?”. “No, sir; but she's a Farnum-Pollard boat, I believe, and in that case I shall expect to feel at home aboard of her at once. “The Grant' is-let me see." Consulting another paper the Secretary con- tinued : “The ‘Grant' is now on her way to Norfolk, in tow, after having been tested. She should arrive at Norfolk this afternoon or some time during to-night." “Yes, sir; she was expected when we left." “Very well, Mr. Benson; that is your billet. You will command the 'Grant' until further or- ders. Your orders, and those for Mr. Hastings and Mr. Somers will be signed and turned over you before you leave." “Very good, sir. Are there any especial in- structions for me in connection with the new command?" “Very important special instructions, Mr. Benson. In fact, you are to employ the 'Grant' on a business that is not connected with naval service." A gleam of unusual interest shot into the boy's to AND THE SMUGGLERS 13 eyes. He did not, however, speak, but waited for the Secretary to do so. “At the request of another member of the Cabinet, and by command of the President, continued Mr. Sanders, “you will now convert the 'Grant,' without informing anyone of the fact, into a revenue cutter." Jack Benson's face must have dropped more than he was aware, for the Secretary laughed lightly. “You do not fancy that kind of an appoint- ment, Mr. Benson." “I am wholly at your orders, sir.' “But you don't like the appointment?” “It isn't my place, sir, to like or to dislike any order that comes to me from the proper source, sir." “You don't like the idea, Mr. Benson,” the Secretary of the Navy continued. “Yet, if I am any judge whatever of your make-up and temperament, you will soon like this new work better than any assignment I could offer you. Mr. Benson, your work is to be of such a very special nature that you are not to inform any- one, outside of your two junior officers, what the mission of the 'Grant' is." “That begins to look much more interesting already, sir,” Jack replied, now smiling. “Your published orders will call only for a AND THE SMUGGLERS 15 smuggled goods have been shipped to New York City,” continued the Secretary. “Glance over it, now.” Jack made a hasty yet thorough inspection of the list. “What do you conclude?" asked the Secre- tary. “I note that the smuggled items include high- priced silks and satins, laces of a kind that are usually made in France, and in some instances gems, though precious stones do not seem to make up the greater part of the values of the goods. I should imagine that the smuggled ar- ticles all come from France, sir, though that may prove to be a hasty conclusion." “The smuggled articles are believed to come largely from France," nodded the Secretary. “But why should the parcels be shipped from many different points in New Jersey ?” “Why, I should suppose, sir, in order to throw possible suspicion off the track,” replied Ben- “If all the parcels came from the same office the express agent might grow suspicious, and report his suspicions. “Right again,” nodded the Secretary of the Navy. “The first information did, in fact, come through express company sources.” “These different towns,” Benson continued, so son. 16 THE SUBMARINE BOYS as he again glanced along the list,"extend along the length of that portion of New Jersey which borders on the Atlantic Ocean.” “And you will also note,” continued Secre- tary Sanders, “that the shipments occur on al- most every date in the month. It looks very much as though more than one vessel were being employed in bringing in the goods." “Or else, sir,” Lieutenant Jack Benson sug- gested, very respectfully, “the receivers of the smuggled goods have excellent means for taking care of them, and so avoid making large ship- ments." “A very good answer!” cried the Secretary delightedly. “Mr. Benson, whatever you do not grasp of the situation now I am certain you will grasp once you are on the scene and have put your keen mind at work." “But what I think you want more particularly of me, sir,” the youth ventured, with a smile, “is to grasp the smugglers themselves. That you do not want me to pay any attention to the people in New York who receive these smuggled goods is quite apparent from the fact that you already have here the names and addresses of the parties in New York to whom the express parcels have been delivered. May I ask a ques- tion, sir?" “Yes, Mr. Benson." وو AND THE SMUGGLERS 17 “Has any move been made, yet, against these New York parties who are the final receivers of the smuggled goods." “No action has been taken so far," replied Secretary Sanders. “You see, Mr. Benson, that news would travel swiftly, and would put the real smugglers on their guard at once. Now, what the government wishes to do is to catch the parties who are doing the actual smuggling. If we catch only the final receivers of the goods the real smugglers will be troubled only to find new customers." “I quite understand that, sir.” “Then what do you make of the riddle, Mr. Benson?' “First of all, sir, I would like to know some- thing as to my general instructions." “If you catch the smuggling craft, and catch it red-handed, then you will seize that craft at once and treat it as a prize, informing this de- partment at once of your success. But, Lieu- tenant Benson, you must not make any prema- ture moves. You must not seize a craft sus- pected of smuggling. You must have proof positive." "Then I am not to search any craft on sus- picion ?” Jack asked quickly. “Obviously not," replied the Secretary, "for then the real object of your presence along the -7 Submarine Boys. 18 THE SUBMARINE BOYS coast of New Jersey would be known far and wide in shipping circles.' No; this is a matter, Lieutenant, in which you must proceed with the utmost caution. If you fail in using discretion then your blunders will reflect on the Navy De- partment. It would be easy enough to put a revenue cutter on the job, but a revenue cutter, we are convinced, would not serve for the de- tection of such clever rascals as the government believes those to be with whom we contend." “Before I leave Washington," Benson sug- gested, “I must go to the proper department and get a list of all coastwise vessels that are likely to touch at the New Jersey coast.” “Yes; such a list may be of great help. Now, here are some further instructions that will per- haps make the matter clearer,” continued Mr. Sanders, handing over a bulky document. “Take this over by that window and read it through while I am attending to some routine matters here on my desk." For twenty minutes Jack Benson was thus en- gaged. The further he read into this document of instruction the more he began to like the idea of his new assignment to duty. “Whew! I shall find that I have a clever lot of rascals to battle against," murmured the youth. “The government already knows much about this smuggling enterprise, and yet is AND THE SMUGGLERS 19 forced to admit that it doesn't know enough to place a heavy hand on the real smugglers. The more I look this over the more I find it to my liking." “Do you comprehend your task, Lieutenant Benson?” queried Secretary Sanders, turning around at last. “I think I do, sir, as much as I am likely to until I arrive on the actual scene," Benson an- swered. “Can you catch the smugglers ?” “I don't like to admit, sir, that there is any- thing in the line of duty which I can't do,” Lieu- tenant Jack answered, setting his jaws squarely. “A very good answer, Mr. Benson. You tend to confirm the hope that I have of you in this matter." "I shall succeed, sir,” promised the subma- rine boy, “if there is any possible way in which I can land success.” “Unless you have some further questions to ask me,” remarked the Secretary, "you now have your full orders in the matter." “Very good, sir," replied the young officer, reaching for his hat. “I will procure the list of coastwise trading vessels. Then, unless you direct me otherwise, sir, I will go to the Arling- ton to lunch with my brother officers, and then take an early afternoon train for 'Norfolk.” 20 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “Do so," nodded the Secretary. "A tele- gram from this Department will instruct the Commandant of the Yard at Norfolk to turn over to you the ‘Grant, and to furnish you with such draft of men as you will need for the craft. You will put to sea as soon as ready, and from that moment you will act on your own discretion, of course reporting to this Department fre- quently." “Very good, sir.” “I wish you success, Mr. Benson!” said the Secretary of the Navy, once more extending his right hand. Once outside of the State, War and Navy building Jack Benson decided on using a cab; not for the purpose of avoiding fatigue, but as a means of making quick time. Forty minutes later Lieutenant Jack, his list of coastwise vessels among his other papers, strode into the lobby of the Hotel Arlington. 'Ahoy, there, mate!" called a cheerful voice. Acting Ensign Somers, he of the bright red hair and nearly perpetual grin, rushed forward to meet him, while Acting Ensign Hal Hastings came forward at a slower and more dignified pace. "Got our orders?” Eph inquired eagerly. “Yes," Jack nodded. “What are they?” AND THE SMUGGLERS 21 “Mr. Somers," responded Jack, putting on an immense amount of dignity for the moment, “the pleasure of your superior officers will be communicated to you when the moment of need arrives!” “Oh, lollypop!” gasped the irrepressible Eph, straightening up stiffly and executing a very formal salute. “Very good, sir." “Which is to say,” smiled Lieutenant Jack, as Hal joined them, “that we are ordered to a try-out and practice cruise on the ‘Grant.'” “How soon do we report?” “Immediately." “I had hoped it would be sooner than that,” retorted Eph, with mock gravity. “I am in a hurry to get away from Washington! This is the third time I have been at the National Capi- tal, and I haven't yet found time to do half a day of sight-seeing.” “Where do we take the 'Grant'?" asked Hal. “We board her at Norfolk, and proceed north along the coast, possibly as far as New Eng- land, " Jack answered, in low tones, for many strangers were passing them every minute in the lobby. “Now, let's have luncheon at once. Our train leaves in an hour from now." “Then I shall have my wish!” cried Eph, with more mock fervor. “I had hoped to escape from Washington ere some sociable idiot tried 22 THE SUBMARINE BOYS to take me around and show me something of the city.” “If you want to see Washington," Jack re- torted, "you have several periods of leave dur- ing the year. You can use up one of those fur- loughs in seeing Washington.” The lobby being a long one, the three young acting naval officers had some distance to walk in order to reach the dining room. On their way they had occasion to pass three rather overdressed young men of twenty years or so, whose general appearance suggested that they were members of the theatrical profession. As Jack, Hal and Eph passed with that combi- nation of erect carriage and easy walk that one learns on the quarter deck, they were surveyed rather curiously by the other trio. “Who's the dude kid with the sunburst hair?" inquired one of the strangers of his friends. There was a low laugh from the others. Eph, who had heard, and who instantly realized that his own red hair had been alluded to, flushed in a way that made his cheeks match his hair. "Did you see that sunrise, Cal?” continued the unknown tormentor. Until the insults were made more personal and pointed Eph resolved not to pay heed, though the word “sunrise” referred to his all too plain flushing of the face. AND THE SMUGGLERS 23 “My, but he's a shining youth,” went on the tormentor, jeeringly. “Shines from head to foot. Look at those glossy tan shoes. They make my eyes ache. Really, I must do some- thing to them.” “Don't get too frisky, Wally,” advised the stranger who had been addressed as Cal. “Of course I won't," promised Wally. “All I want to do is to take some of the edge off the shiny shoes.” Sauntering along at a swifter pace than Eph Somers was using, the youth, designated as Wally, ranged alongside; then, with pretended awkwardness, stepped squarely on the toe of Eph's right shoe. As Wally withdrew his foot he succeeded in his efforts to ruin the polish. That was too much! Smack! Eph Somers's right fist shot straight out, landing on the stranger's face. Wally went down with a good deal of haste, and sat on the hard floor of the lobby, looking a trifle dazed. “The next time you remark anyone with sun- burst hair," hinted Eph, his face now relaxing into a grin, “just try to bear in mind, Mr. Fresh, that sunburst hair often carries a sun-stroke temper with it. You're it!” Saying which Eph turned as though to pass on into the dining room. He was halted, how- ever, by Wally, who sprang to his feet. 24 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “You wait till I hit you !" glared Wally. “It won't take you long, will it?” asked Eph curiously. Jack and Hal, smiling, had halted, standing at one side. Wally's companions rushed up, but Eph did not take the trouble to turn to look at them. “You young bully!” roared Wally, clenching his fist and waving it before the face of Eph Somers, who did not seem greatly disturbed thereby. “How dare you hit me?” “I'm afraid I haven't time to go into that,” Eph drawled. "If you don't know why I hit you then I have no time to discuss the matter with you. I'm on the track of a quick lunch just at present. Will you oblige me either by punchingame, as you promised, or else stepping out of my way. By this time fully forty people had crowded about. One of the hotel clerks and three porters edged through the throng. “Are you here again?” demanded the clerk, eyeing Wally, who now looked uncomfortable. “You were chased out of here yesterday and told not to come back. We don't want you and your friends hanging around here. This hotel is conducted for the comfort of its guests and their friends." “We're waiting to see Mr. Dravens,” ex- AND THE SMUGGLERS 25 plained Wally, naming a well-known theatrical man. “Mr. Dravens doesn't want to see you, and sent polite word to that effect when you called yesterday,” the clerk went on. “Now, I shall have to ask you to leave you and your friends. Start!" “But this young bully hit me," complained Wally, "and he must apologize before I'll leave." The clerk, who had already recognized Lieu- tenant Benson and his friends, made haste to re- ply: “If this young gentleman hit you—" “He did !” Wally asserted, with a choke in his voice. “Then he certainly had excellent reasons,” the clerk replied. “Now, oblige us by leaving this hotel.” “Not until — " insisted Wally. At a nod from the clerk one of the strong- armed porters seized the youth, steering him rapidly to one of the entrances. Wally's two companions did not lose any time, but hurried unaided for another exit. “Too bad," murmured Eph. "I think that young man really had something on his mind that he wanted to deliver to me.” “Don't you believe it,” Jack laughed quietly. 26 THE SUBMARINE BOYS "He wouldn't have struck you without a cer- tain guarantee that you wouldn't do anything to him in return." “Did I lose my temper?” asked Eph anx- iously. “Yes; but not until you were justified in los- ing it,” Benson answered. “Now, let us get at a table before someone else comes along and dis- covers that it's a sunny day." “Queer how people notice red hair," mur- mured Eph, “when they never pay the least at- tention to brown hair like yours. “It isn't all in your hair, Eph," teased Hal, in an undertone. “There is something about your face that makes people want to laugh. “Is that really so?” Somers demanded. “Hal, I owe you one for that and I shall take mighty good care to pay my bill at the earliest possible opportunity." “Stop your quarreling,” ordered Jack, “and make up your minds what you're going to say to the waiter." Though he dared not enter the hotel again Mr. Wally was standing on the curbing just below the hotel when the three young naval officers came out to board a car for the railway station. “There's my man, now !” muttered Wally vin- dictively. He was obliged to talk to himself as his two companions had deserted him. 28 THE SUBMARINE BOYS as the car steps, and was in the act of entering the car when he remembered that he had no nickel to hand to the conductor. For three blocks Wally followed on foot, run- ning along on the sidewalk. Then puffing, he halted, a stitch in his side. “Hang it!” he groaned. "I wish I knew where to find young Carrot-top. I'd like to pass some trouble on to him! He was the means of having me put out of the Arlington for good and all, and now I don't see how I'm ever going to reach the ear of Dravens. Five minutes with Dravens, and I could have persuaded him to give me a chance in his ‘Dutch Pagoda' company. But for Carrot-top I'd have seen Dravens and got that chance." Regardless of the passers-by Mr. Wally shook his fist vehemently in the direction of the now far distant street car. Like many others of weak intellect Wally be- lieved that Eph's conduct had deprived him of a great chance on the stage, so he hated the un- known Somers with an intensity peculiar to such dispositions. Just at that moment the young would-be actor would have felt vastly better if he had known that he and Eph Somers were destined to meet again. In the meantime Wally's hatred was not likely to die out. AND THE SMUGGLERS 29 CHAPTER II JACK MEETS SKIPPER REDBEARD “I NEVER saw anything as slow as this game," murmured Eph disconsolately. “Here we've put in a month, already, along the coast of the Mosquito State, and we might as well have stayed at Norfolk for all we've learned." “It's a baffling hunt,” Lieutenant Jack admit- ted, with a sigh. “I hope the Navy Department understands just how hard we are up against it. Every day I am afraid of receiving a telegram ordering us to take the 'Grant' back to Norfolk, tie her up and go on the waiting orders' list.' “It wouldn't be so tough," put in Ensign Hal, “if it weren't for the fact that the smuggling is still going right on.” “Uncle Sam must stand to lose a lot of money, suggested Eph, “if the parcels of smuggled goods are still being shipped to New York without having paid duty. Yet your de- spatches, Jack, state that these parcels are being regularly shipped.” “Uncle Sam won't lose much in that direc- tion,” Lieutenant Benson answered. “The peo- ple who receive these packages and parcels are 30 THE SUBMARINE BOYS all of them sleeping over dynamite mines. As soon as the government gets ready to act it will swoop down, pounce upon these New York peo- ple who are receiving smuggled goods, and fine them all heavily, besides probably sending the offenders to prison. The people who are being hurt are we three, and myself still more particu- larly as I happen to be in command. Secretary Sanders picked us out from the whole Navy as the three young men who ought to catch the smugglers. We aren't making good, either. If we're recalled we'll be set down as stupid boys, and that may be about the last that the Navy ever hears about us. Hang it! Why can't we have the brains to strike at least a good clue?” The three young officers had been sitting over their luncheon in the cramped little wardroom of the “Grant." It was hardly larger than a stateroom, this tiny little wardroom, but as there were three offi- cers required on board, this little craft had to have a wardroom. In naval terms a wardroom is at once the dining room, clubroom and draw- ing room of a naval craft. From it led a narrow passage with doors open- ing into two staterooms on either side. The fourth was for a medical officer when such hap- pened to be on board. On this cruise there was no surgeon. Nor is it quite correct to speak of 97 AND THE SMUGGLERS 31 doors, for the doors had been removed from each of the staterooms, and in their place hung woolen portieres. This was to save space in the cramped quarters for officers, which were aft, and, of course, on a submarine, below deck. The single waiter on the “Grant” had already been dismissed, and the outer door of the pas- sageway bolted. So the officers felt that they might talk without danger of being overheard. At present the “Grant” lay at anchor in the tiny, sand-enclosed bay of Boxhaven, an inferior summer resort well south of Atlantic City. During nearly all of the month the “Grant": had been off one point or another of the coast of New Jersey. The public, and even the crew be- lieved that the main object of the cruise was drill and practice. Every day the crew was well- worked to keep up this delusion. As many visitors as permitted had come on board. Newspaper men and their photograph- ers had paid many calls, and had written or photographed as much on and concerning the 'Grant” as the regulations allowed. For the “Grant” was the biggest, the newest submarine torpedo boat in the American Navy, and, in her class, the pride of the Navy and of the people. Lieutenant Jack had not been loafing. Neither had his two ensigns. On shore Secret Service men had endeavored to “run down" the men 32 THE SUBMARINE BOYS who had brought parcels of smuggled goods to express offices, but so far without result. “It's a bit stifling down here," said Lieuten- ant Jack Benson, rising, at last. “Let's go up on deck." They rose, passing out into the main cabin, where, at night, the gunner's mate and twelve seamen hung their hammocks. As they passed through this cabin the enlisted men gathered there rose and stood at attention until Jack com- manded: “Carry on." Up the circular staircase and out through the conning tower stepped the three young officers. On the tower platform, aft of the tower itself, a tiny awning had been spread. Under the awn- ing there was just room for three chairs for the officers. “There's a boat putting off from shore, and heading this way,” murmured Eph Somers. “Maybe the fellow bears a telegram ordering our return to Norfolk." "Let's not jest about a crusher that is much too likely to happen,” begged Benson. "Fel- lows, we're feeling the disagreeable side of re- sponsibility more than we ever did before." “For a care-free life, with little besides hard work," put in Hal, "commend me to that.' His nod indicated a small lobster schooner that AND THE SMUGGLERS 33 was even then heading into the bay, and not far away. These men, who go out during the even- ing, seldom return before early afternoon. “Yes; those chaps are lucky in a way," Jack admitted. “The lobster man has a rough, hard- working life, but he has little more to contend with than work and some danger. He doesn't know what it is to have the Navy Department send him on a hopeless errand, and then jerk him up for not having performed the impossible. If the Secret Service men who are at work could only obtain a thread of a clue to start us on, perhaps we might do the rest." Within a very short time it was plain that the small boat was actually heading for the sub- marine at anchor. “Lieutenant John Benson on board?" asked the man at the oars. “I am he," Jack answered. “Telegram for you, sir." As the boat came alongside Benson steppeå forward, received the sealed envelope and signed the oarsman's book. Then the young lieutenant went back to his seat. “It's from the Department,” he announced, after a glance at the bottom of the message. “Recalling us?” asked Eph dryly. “I don't know. It's in the ordinary cipher. I shall have to go below and figure it out." 9 -7 Submarine Boys. 3.1 THE SUBMARINE BOYS While he was below Hal and Eph exchanged barely a dozen words. “What do you think?” asked Jack, his eyes blazing, as he came up, twenty minutes later, and dropped once more into his chair. “Recalled to Norfolk, there to wait orders, I suppose,” Hal drawled. “Nothing like it,” Benson answered. “The Department informs me that, three days ago, four parcels of smuggled goods were shipped from the Boxhaven express office.' “Right under our noses !” Hal exclaimed. “There is no kick from the Secretary," Jack continued. “Evidently he thinks the informa- tion in itself is kick enough.” “And he comes mighty close to being right, quivered Eph. “What in the name of wisdom ails us fellows? How are the smugglers manag- ing to fool us right under our noses?” “There is no certainty that the smuggled goods were landed at Boxhaven," Jack Benson maintained quietly. "Yet I believe that the Secretary thinks we're lying at anchor in the very harbor of the smugglers." “What's to be done?” demanded Hal Hast- ings, after a long pause. “I don't know," Jack confessed frankly. "But I know what I need—a long walk down a quiet road, and I'm going ashore to have it.' AND THE SMUGGLERS 35 17 “Want any company?” Hal inquired, rising with alacrity. “No; we want to keep at least two officers on board. If I can't think out anything for my- self I'll let you two draw lots to see who shall be the next to go ashore. Gunner's mate!” In answer to the last summons the gunner's mate appeared, saluting. “Mate, have the gig alongside at once." “Very good, sir." Jack Benson went promptly below. The gig lay alongside when he came on deck again. The young commander of the “Grant” was now in summer gray, soft flannel shirt, flowing tie, tan shoes and the same straw hat he had worn in Washington. In the gig sat the coxswain and four oarsmen. “To the usual landing," Jack ordered, as he stepped into the gig, and the coxswain, after saluting, gave the order to the men to give way. “Shall we wait for you, sir?" asked the cox- swain, touching his cap after Jack Benson had stepped upon the low pier. “No; I will signal when I wish the gig to take me on board." As Jack Benson turned away disappointment showed on the faces of five jackies. They had hoped for a little shore leave, which was a scarce article on the “Grant." AND THE SMUGGLERS 37 “Not exactly,” replied the sailor. “What do you mean by that?" “We do more in fishing than in lobster-catch- ing," replied the young stranger, who did not grow more gracious upon further acquaintance. “It's pretty hard work on the boats along this coast, isn't it?” Benson asked pleasantly, as he halted, gazing aboard the little schooner. “Sometimes it is," half grunted the other. “Is the pay good!” Jack went on. “It keeps us alive," said the stranger rather sulkily. “Now, what I can't understand," Jack went on, smilingly, “is why so many of you strong, husky, fearless, sea-trained young fellows go on working, year in, year out, until you're old men, on these fishing craft. Why don't you go into the Navy, where there is fine pay and every chance in the world for young fellows with the right stuff in them?" "Huh!” growled the stranger. "I reckon you don't know much about the Navy." “Do you?” Jack challenged pleasantly. “Know all I wanter 'bout it,” grunted the young seafarer. “Well, what have you against the Navy?” pressed Lieutenant Jack, who was never so con- tentedly employed as when trying to convince young Americans that they ought to enlist. 38 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “I've got everything against it,” retorted the ungracious stranger. "But what, in particular?” insisted Benson. “The officers, for one thing," came the sullen answer. “What's wrong with the officers?" Lieutenant Jack inquired. “Why, they're the most all-fired stuck-up lot of dudes you ever saw,” replied the sulky one, with a scowl. “They just strut around and give orders, and the poor sailors have to go to touch- ing their caps and scraping their feet and acting like so many jumping-jacks—else they git in the brig. An officer gets down on some sailor who doesn't throw quite enough soft soap and pala- ver, and that sailor might as well be dead. That officer just spends his spare time, after that, lying about the poor jackie and getting him into trouble." “I guess you've never seen anything of the real life of the Navy," retorted Jack Benson, sternness creeping into his voice. “If you've heard anything at all about the Navy you've heard it from some deserter. Now, a sailor who'll break his oath and desert is hardly to be believed on any point whatever." "Huh! If you had followed the sea more, and had met as many jackies as I have," re- torted the young man, "you'd have a different AND THE SMUGGLERS 39 idea about the Navy. I know the pay is good enough, but I make more money, anyway, than the fellers in the Navy do. So I'm not inter- ested in signing on in the Navy." “But you seem to have a very queer idea of the officers," Jack pursued. “They're a mean and stuck-up lot," the sea- farer retorted, with some heat. “They're al- most as bad as the revenue officers.” “So you don't like the officers in the revenue cutter service, either?" Jack Benson inquired. “I hate 'em!" flared the other. “What did the officers of the revenue cutter service ever do to you?” asked: Jack Benson, looking straight into the other's face. “Nothing, but I hate 'em just the same,” torted the young seafarer. A brisk step sounded behind them. “Want anything on this pier, young man!” hailed a heavy, hoarse, brusque voice. Jack turned leisurely to survey the speaker, who proved to be a heavily-built man of medium height, with tousled tow-colored hair, a some- what reddish beard and a still redder face. His apparel was very ordinary, but the visored blue cap on his head completed the idea that he was a follower of the sea. Jack's mind at once placed the man, who was about forty years old, as the skipper of the schooner. re- 40 THE SUBMARINE BOYS As Jack Benson continued to stare at him the red-faced man began to look angry. “I asked you, young man," he bellowed, “if you want anything out on this pier.” “I strolled along,” Jack replied politely, “took a look at your schooner—if it is your craft-and had a bit of a talk with this young man." “Then, if that was all your business here, you're through, aren't you?” demanded the red- bearded man. “I'm through,” Jack conceded, “if you own this pier and don't want me here." “Maybe your room would be just as good as your company," retorted the red-faced one. “If you really want me to go, then of course I'll go," Jack agreed. “But I didn't know that you felt any need of secrecy here." At mention of the word "secrecy" there came a change in the face of the red-bearded man. It was a fleeting change, gone in an instant. “Don't get fresh around places where you've no business, young man, " he retorted. Turn- ing, he stepped aboard the schooner. “Come on and 'tend to your business, Jake,” he called to the young seafarer, in a tone that proclaimed him master of the schooner. Into Jack Benson's mind had come a sudden determination to seem a bit stubborn and see >> AND THE SMUGGLERS 41 what came of it. So he turned his back on the schooner, but still loitered on the pier. A min- ute later the red-bearded man stepped heavily over the side of the schooner, coming straight toward Benson. “Young man, are you going to get off this pier, or are you not?” “Why should I?” Jack asked coolly. “Because I've told you that you ain't wanted here!" “Do you call that a good reason?” Jack in- quired, with a smile. “It's good enough for me," bellowed the wrathful skipper. “But quite possibly not good enough for me," Jack rejoined. “Why have you taken a notion to be disagreeable to me, anyway? Am I doing you any harm here! Am I doing anything that interferes with your rights?” “Will you get off the pier, or shall I grab you by the coat collar and run you off?” de- manded the irate skipper. "Neither," Jack answered. “Then you won't get off ?” “Not until I'm ready, unless you offer me a good reason why I should go earlier." “I've two good reasons, and they're right here!” bawled the skipper, raising his heavy fists towards Jack. “Now, are you going?” 42 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “Your reasons aren't quite big enough," Jack laughed quietly. “They aren't, hey?" demanded the skipper, advancing. “We'll see about that!" With both hands he made a dive for Jack's collar. But Benson stepped nimbly out of the way. As the heavy skipper turned to follow him Jack thrust out one of his feet. That trip brought the skipper down with such force that his fall jarred the pier timbers. “I'll pay you back for that!" roared the skip- per, getting lumberingly on to his feet while Jack smiled provokingly at him. This time two sledge-hammer fists milled at the boy's head. But Jack Benson was no ama- teur in boxing. Sea life had taught him much in this line. Without giving an inch of ground he parried the ugly blows until he saw his chance to drive in a blow that floored the skipper. “Jake," bellowed the skipper as he started to rise to his feet, “bring a couple of belaying pins and we'll attend to this city dude's case.” “If you're wise, Jake,” Benson called, warn- ingly, "you'll remain right where you are. If I have to defend myself I'll soon begin to geti rough and mix things up. The two of you won't be enough to whip me, and you'll both have broken heads before you're through with me.” Jake, who had watched the fight up-to-date, 44 THE SUBMARINE BOYS er's cabin Benson dallied on the pier. At last he turned and walked away. Outwardly, Benson was cool enough, but in- wardly he was far from calm. “Gracious !” he muttered. “I really believe I've hit upon something that will be well worth watching. That young sailor let it out that he disliked the officers of the revenue cutter serv- ice, and then he was confused when I asked him what he had against the revenue service. Then his captain, as soon as I mentioned the word “secrecy,' looked mighty strange for an instant. Why may not that schooner be the smuggler as well as any other craft? Some vessel along the New Jersey coast is doing the smuggling, and that schooner, the ‘Velvet,' which I've seen a dozen times may be the very craft! I won't go back to the 'Grant' just yet. I'll take din- ner at one of the hotels, eat slowly, think fast, and maybe ask a few questions around the vil- lage. This may lead to something really great in the line that we've been hunting. Strolling up the principal water front street, outwardly wholly placid, Lieutenant Jack Ben- son stopped at the Belleair, the best summer hotel in the place. Here meals were served on the two side verandas. Picking out a table, Jack seated himself, to enjoy a shore dinner and his own thoughts. AND THE SMUGGLERS 45 While we leave him, momentarily thus en- gaged, let us glance briefly at Jack Benson's previous exploits, and those of his two friends in the Service, Hal Hastings and Eph Somers. All our readers recall the first volume of this series, “THE SUBMARINE Boys On Duty.” In this was told how Jack Benson and Hal Hast- ings, two boys wandering about in search of a living, came to the little seaport town where Jacob Farnum, ship-builder, and David Pol- lard, inventor, were constructing the first of the subsequently famous Farnum-Pollard subma- rines. How Jack and Hal tried, with all their might, to secure employment with the builders, and how Eph Somers subsequently joined them, is well known. All their first steps in patiently mastering the details of life and work on a diving torpedo boat are told in this first volume, as well as the amazing adventures that befell them. In the second volume, "THE SUBMARINE Boys' TRIAL TRIP,” we found our three young friends working night and day to become experts in their most unusual calling. The details, the aw- ful perils and the rousing plot unfolded have not yet escaped the recollection of any of our readers. In “THE SUBMARINE BOYS AND THE MIDDIES" we found our young friends so far masters of their work that they were sent to the 46 THE SUBMARINE BOYS U. S. Naval Academy at Annapolis to serve as civilian instructors to the Brigade of Mid- shipmen in the mysteries of handling the Far- num-Pollard submarines. With the midship- men, Jack, Hal and Eph had some wonderfully amusing adventures and shared some of the most startling dangers of the deep. Then, in the fourth volume, “THE SUBMARINE BOYS AND THE SPIES” we found our young friends exposed to the cleverest work of the spies of different foreign governments, all of these spies doing their level best to penetrate the mysteries of the Farnum-Pollard subma- rines. Jack, Hal and Eph, in fact, more than once came within an ace of losing their lives in their efforts to thwart clever and dangerous spies. It was a stirring tale of adventure of the best type, as all our readers will remember. “THE SUBMARINE BOYS' LIGHTNING CRUISE" dealt with incidents even more exciting and at- tended by very different circumstances. The plot unfolded was one to arouse the patriotism of an American boy, and to gratify his craving for the most thrilling adventures. All through these varied and truly wonder- ful adventures the three lads, by constant ap- plication to their work, had made themselves more complete masters of their chosen profes- sion. In the volume preceding this present one, AND THE SMUGGLERS 47 ("THE SUBMARINE BOYS FOR THE FLAG,"we found our lads recognized as being, in many respects, among the best informed authorities on the handling of submarine craft, and especially of the Farnum-Pollard type, of which the United States now owned many. Foreign govern- ments now tried to secure the services of the submarine boys outright, offering them advan- tageous positions in foreign navies. The train of adventures related in this narrative finally placed the three in brief command of a United States naval craft, under direct authority from Washington. Such excellent work did they now perform that all three, in order to keep them in the United States' service, were offered posi- tions as acting officers of the Navy. Jack Ben- son's appointment was as acting lieutenant, junior grade, while Hal and Eph were appointed as acting ensigns. All three of the boys, being too young to receive actual commissions from the President, were promised commissions as each reached the age of twenty-one. And now let us return to that keen young follower of the sea, Lieutenant Jack Benson, whom we shall find finishing his solitary dinner on the porch of the Hotel Belleair. As we ap- proach him again we find him pondering earn- estly on the meaning, if any, of the conduct of the two men at the schooner's pier. AND THE SMUGGLERS 49 Ned White was the son of a manufacturer who had amassed several millions of dollars in business. Ned, having positively declined busi- ness as a career, had been educated as a lawyer. Grinding work, however, was not much to young White's taste. As the only son of a rich man he couldn't discover that he would ever have much need of industry. So the father, a man rather useful in party politics, and determined to keep his son at some form of employment, had secured for Ned a clerical appointment in the State Department at Washington, where his legal training would make him of some use. Ned rented an apartment in Washington at a rental just twice the size of his salary from the government, the father supplying the needed funds. Ned was not wild at all, but he had a settled aversion to continued hard work, and did as little at the State Department as he could and escape the censure of those over him. At heart, barring his laziness, he was a good fellow. Perhaps the main thing that ailed the young man was that he had not yet found con- genial outlet for his energies. Jack had met this budding diplomat in Wash- ington, though the two had never become more than casually acquainted. “You're running a submarine again?” White- asked, as he scanned the bill of fare. -7 Submarine Boys. 50 THE SUBMARINE BOYS Benson replied that he had command of the “Grant," which was engaged on a practice and trying-out cruise. “Wish I could go with you,” remarked Ned White, “though I don't suppose you could get leave to take a passenger. “That's a hard thing to do, you know,” Lieu- tenant Jack smiled. “It isn't at all easy to se- cure permission to carry a passenger on a naval vessel.' “I believe I could get that fixed at Washing- ton, if I were sure that you would regard me as being really welcome on board,” White replied, as he signaled a waiter. “Come by all means, if you can secure the necessary permission of the Navy Department,' Jack answered. “What accommodation have you on board?” asked White, looking up eagerly. “Do I have to sleep on a seat in the cabin?" “No; there is a vacant stateroom, for the ac- commodation of a surgeon, and we haven't one on this cruise." “By Jove! I believe I'll try to get a permit, Ned White laughed, looking interested. “I've never been on a submarine and I'd like the ex- perience. I'm glad I've met you, Benson.” Jack did not believe White would have much luck with the Navy Department. While it is > AND THE SMUGGLERS 51 invariably difficult to secure passage on a craft of the Navy, Secretary Sanders was certain to be even more than usually slow to grant per- mission, considering the nature of the real mis- sion on which the young officers of the “Grant" were engaged. Ned White ordered a heavy dinner, but he ate it quickly. While doing so he explained that he had utilized the first part of his vacation to come down and look over the Belleair, which property his mother had recently given him. “The landlord has been a bit slow about pay- ing the lease money, you know,” White added, in a low tone. “It's because the season is yet young, he tells me." During the last few minutes the sky had been clouding, and now rain and wind came together. Bright lightning and heavy thunder followed, driving the few guests from the verandas. “Come up to my rooms, Benson," invited the idle young man. “We can chat there and be dry at the same time. I want to pump you a bit about the attractions of the submarine life." Though he would rather, just then, have been rid of his companion, Ned White was so thor- oughly good-humored and likeable that Jack did not see his way to refuse the invitation. “A poor old hotel, this," muttered White, as he opened the door to his rooms. “Yet I fancy, 52 THE SUBMARINE BOYS 99 I have rather the best quarters here. See how dismal it is. Really, I'm a bit ashamed to own such a hotel.” “When shame weighs you down too hard,' laughed Lieutenant Jack, “just deed the prop- erty over to me." “Why, it wouldn't net you much,” drawled young White. “Only forty-five hundred dol- lars a season. “That’s considerably more than I'm making now,” smiled Benson, as he took a seat. “Oh, of course the government pays beastly salaries,” said White, with his easy, lordly air. “But then, of course, you have some outside in- come of your own. All fellows in the govern- ment service have." “I have nothing that I haven't earned my- self,” Jack answered. Just then the wind shifted, driving in a del- uge of rain through one of the open windows. Ned sprang to close the window, for he could display a good deal of energy when he wished. “You're a sailor," Ned White went on. “Tell me how long this rain is going to last." “The way the sky looked, and the way it's raining now," Jack answered, “it may last for some hours yet.” "Then you won't be going out to your craft to-night,” White rejoined. “You can put up AND THE SMUGGLERS 53 >> here. There are plenty of vacant rooms, and I'll make Gray, the landlord, put you up in a room as my guest, without making you any charge." “Oh, I shall have to go back by and by,' Jack protested. Through this summer storm?" Ned White protested. "It would never do for a sailor to let him- self be held up by a little rain,” Benson laughed. “You'll ruin your clothes.” “I have others." Although trying to preserve an appearance of interest in his companion's remarks, Benson was thinking actively about the great problem that had been in his mind for a month past. “At least, you'll let me offer you rain clothes ?" asked Ned White. “What sort?” asked Jack, looking up with keener interest than his host had expected. “I'll show you,” replied White, going to a wardrobe. He brought forth a long rubber raincoat and a refined imitation of a fisherman's sou’wester headgear. "I had these the last time I crossed the pond,” White explained. “Very useful I found 'em, too. There's a pair of rubber boots here somewhere." 54 THE SUBMARINE BOYS The boots, too, were produced. As Jack tried on the coat he told himself gleefully: "The rain and this rig make just what I wanted—a real disguise in which I may now ap- proach that wharf again. If I keep my face shaded I wouldn't be recognized, if seen-but I mustn't be seen." Benson remained a half an hour longer, chat- ting as best he could with his pleasant, friendly host. Then, borrowing the rain clothes and donning them, Jack bade Ned White a hasty good-bye. “Now, we shall see if there's anything to be seen to-night!” he told himself, as he merged his dark rain clothes into the blackness of the stormy night. “There's just a chance that I may be on the right track through the discovery I blundered into this afternoon." A chance? Lieutenant Jack Benson, U. S. N., woud have thrilled if he had known, right then, how much of a chance. Yet, had he been able to see in advance all of the immediate fu- ture, even his stout sailor heart might have quailed. AND THE SMUGGLERS 55 CHAPTER IV ONE WAY TO SOOTHE A. DOG “I" T was hard to wait that last half hour," muttered Benson, as he halted in the shadow of some trees. “Yet it wouldn't do to prowl about the pier while there was too bright lightning. One flash might undo a night's good work. I guess the lightning has gone by now, however." It was still raining heavily, but the downpour Jack counted as his friend. As he walked he peered sharply ahead down the dark water-front road. Nor did the young submarine officer wholly neglect to keep a "watch astern." Whenever he came to a clump of trees he halted under them, taking a still more complete survey of his surroundings. “I don't believe Captain Redbeard will be abroad to-night, unless, he has real business out in the open,” young Benson reflected, during one of these halts under a tree. "I wonder if he and his helper are now ashore or aboard ? Ashore, I hope, for I'd really like a little chance to look over the “Velvet' without being ob- served." 56 THE SUBMARINE BOYS As he neared the pier in question he now found all in darkness, save for the single, dim mast-head light required by law. As Lieutenant Jack neared the land end of the pier he once more halted, looking keenly for any sign of life aboard the “Velvet." No light shone from the cabin. The schooner carried no forecastle, having, instead, a tiny galley forward. Being engaged, supposedly, in fishing, most of her hull space was taken up with hold, where tons of fish could be dropped. There was no light in the galley, either, which was where Jake would be most likely to be seated if he were astir. Though it was not yet quite nine in the even- ing, the hour was not too early for tired fisher- men to be in their bunks. “Now, it makes a heap of difference to me,” mused- the young officer, "whether the skipper, Jake and anyone else who may belong to the craft is ashore or merely in the good old bunk on board. While prowling in this fashion it wouldn't be good taste to arouse a sleeper. After waiting, peering and listening for some five minutes Jack Benson decided to go softly down the pier, taking further observations from a point nearer the schooner. “Gr-r-r-r!'* sounded in his path so unexpect- edly that Jack Benson leaped back instantly. AND THE SMUGGLERS 57 Before him, having appeared from somewhere out of the blackness of the night, stood a most belligerent looking bull-dog. It was a capable, business-like animal, so far as appearance went. The beast continued growling in low notes, while watchfully eyeing the movements of Lieutenant Jack. “Now, even if this beast wouldn't bite," mur- mured Benson, to himself, as he stood his ground, “the least that he will do will be to ad- vertise my coming to anyone who may be sleep- ing on board. Confound it, I never had as just reason for disliking bull-dogs as I have at this present moment!" After eyeing the dog a little longer, Benson held out a hand coaxingly. “Nice old fellow," he ventured soothingly, and took a short step forward. 'Gr-r-r-r!" dryly replied' the nice old fellow, bristling and displaying a few more formidable teeth. “Now, confusion to you! You're going to spring if I take half a step more, aren't you?” murmured Jack Benson. With that he drew back, step by step. Mr. Bull-dog didn't offer to follow, but bristled and watched. “You'll permit me to get away, but you won't allow me on the pier," muttered Jack. “You're 58 THE SUBMARINE BOYS a good, honest, even if too suspicious dog," the young lieutenant continued under his breath, "and I don't in the least like what I'm going to have to do to you. Eyeing the dog all the time, to guard against surprise, Benson fumbled in his pockets until his fingers clutched at a pocket handkerchief. “This is an odd weapon to use in whipping a bull-dog," Benson grimaced, “but I've seen it work before and I believe it will this time, too.' There was nothing novel in the strategem that Lieutenant Jack was now about to test. It takes grit and steady nerves, however, if one is to put the trick through successfully. Folding the handkerchief, grasping one end in either hand, Benson now advanced, slowly yet steadily. “Come on and get it!” muttered the young submarine officer, in a low voice. “Gr-r-r-r!" Mr. Bull-dog showed reliable signs of being about to leap at his enemy. “Take that, then!” taunted Lieutenant Jack, thrusting both hands forward. Regarding the handkerchief as the weapon with which he was being threatened, the dog leaped straight for it, fastening his teeth over it.. Bump! Jack threw back his right foot, then AND THE SMUGGLERS 59 swung it instantly forward, landing it in a strenuous kick over the exposed pit of the brute's stomach. At least a dozen feet the bull-dog was hurled, landing on its back with all its breath gone. “That's a nasty trick to play, even on an ugly dog,” Jack admitted to himself. “Yet it was the only thing to be done in this case." After perhaps a full minute the dog got pain- fully upon its feet. It did not whine or moan, but crawled toward land, a dejected, whipped brute with spirit gone at least for the present. "No more trouble to be expected from you, my friend,” Jack Benson murmured, under his breath. “You have my fullest apologies, poor old fellow, even though you don't know what an apology is.” Satisfied that the bull-dog was too crushed in spirit to attack him again, Jack Benson stepped with soft tread on to the pier. Bit by bit he drew nearer to the schooner. Less than a dozen feet from her stern rail he halted for a final observation. Captain Red- beard, if aboard and asleep, was the kind of man who might be counted upon to have a mighty snore. Jack listened for fully a minute, but without result. “I believe the fellows that work aboard here 60 THE SUBMARINE BOYS are all ashore in their homes for the night,' Jack muttered, “so there can't be any risk in slipping aboard." Cautiously the young naval lieutenant put one foot over the rail, than listened again. Next he drew the other foot after him. The hatchway, and windows of the cabin were fastened. “There's no one sleeping aboard, then, un- less he's sleeping in the hold, or out on deck. The deck is not a likely place. Cautiously, with an eye to landward all the while, the submarine boy made his way forward. There was no one in the galley, which was not even locked. But the hatchway over the hold was padlocked into place. “A new hatch cover,” mused Lieutenant Jack, kneeling in order to get a better look in the blackness that prevailed. “This is a good deal better hatch cover than a thrifty cipper would bother to put on an old fishing boat. My! but it's solidly made. Now,'fish isn't a cargo that has to be protected especially from a lit- tle salt water that might drain into a hold. By the way, though this may be a fishing boat, it is remarkably free from any odor of fish. Jack Benson, I believe your lucky star is shining up there somewhere behind the rain clouds, for it looks as though you were at last on the right track after all these weeks !" 62 THE SUBMARINE BOYS "It won't take us over two hours to get out there, will it?" inquired Jake. “Not if the wind holds the way it is. But I'd rather wait an hour, out on the water, than be five minutes late. You know how fussy a cer- tain party is.” These words filled Jack Benson with all the greater hope of being on the right track. As the skipper had halted in front of the cabin Jack now had to make a lightning choice. Should he try to remain aboard, taking great chances? Or should he slip overboard, joining the “Grant” as speedily as possible, and then try, under cover of the night, to give secret chase to this schooner? “Of course, if I go on the 'Grant,'" Jack breathed quickly to himself, “I will have to take considerable chance of being caught in the wake of this craft. If we were once sighted the smugglers would have all the alarm they need, and we might never catch them in the act. But, if I remain on board this little schooner, how much chance have I of managing not to be discovered here?" Thus was he tossed between the uncertainties afforded by either course of action. AND THE SMUGGLERS 63 CHAPTER V JAKE GROWS REALLY WEIRD Tº O the risk of his own life Jack Benson did not give an instant's thought. No officer or enlisted man in the military service of the United States has any right to consider personal risk where his duty is plain. But the submarine boy's present duty was not plain. All he knew was that he must catch the smugglers, if possible. All that remained to be decided was as to which course would be wiser. “Hoist that foresail, Jake," commanded the skipper. “That'll be sail enough until we get clear of land.” That order brought Benson sharply to his senses. So far he had been concerned with de- ciding upon the better course. Now, with a jolt, he realized that the little craft had been cast clear of the pier and must already be drifting. If he meant to get ashore he must do it either by diving or jumping. Fortunately, he was spared the choice, for the skipper, in going astern to the wheel, chose to leap upon the cabin and walk aft over the house. "In the name of Pete, what have we here?” 64 THE SUBMARINE BOYS growled the skipper, stepping down. A heavy hand was laid on Benson's shoulder. “Gr-r-r-r! Awk!” came a hearty snore from the quick-witted submarine boy. “A sleeper on board, eh?" grumbled the skip- per, giving Jack a harder shake, then yanking him to his feet. “Here, give an account of yourself.” As yet the skipper had not seen the young naval officer's face, for Benson had been lying face downward. Now, as he felt himself being dragged to his feet, Jack used one hand slyly to pull his sou'wester well over his face. “Who are you?" demanded the skipper, hold- ing his catch at arm's length. It was plain that he did not see enough of the face to recognize the youth who had vanquished him in daylight. “00-00-00!" cried Jack, in a falsetto tone of alarm. “Scared, are you?” grimaced the skipper. “You'll be more so, maybe before you're through with me. Here, keep your hands off of me!" But Benson had made no move to strike. In- stead he used the fingers of both hands nimbly in forming what looked like letters of the deaf and dumb alphabet. “Come, don't make motions!” ordered the skipper. “Talk up!" AND THE SMUGGLERS 65 “00-00-00-00 !" continued Jack, in the same voice, which he hardly recognized himself. His fingers flew faster than ever. “A deaf mute, eh?” grunted the skipper. "Jake!' That deck hand started aft. But Jack, who now dreaded discovery of his identity more than anything else, gave a sudden wrench which freed him from the skipper's relaxing clutch. There didn't seem to be much need of hold- ing the prisoner, anyway, for the schooner was now some forty feet away from the pier. “0-0-0-oh!” yelled Jack, as he made a dive for the port rail of the schooner. Not a moment did he linger there, but went over the rail, splash! “Who was it?” gasped Jake, halting by the side of the skipper, who had stopped at the rail at the spot where Benson had gone overboard. “Get a boathook, and don't ask questions yet,” ordered the skipper. Jake speedily returned with the implement desired. “Funny!" muttered the skipper grimly. “What?” asked Jake. “That feller doesn't come up. “Maybe he came up under the hull and dazed himself,” Jake suggested. “We'll soon find out,” returned the skipper, -7 Submarine Boys. AND THE SMUGGLERS 67 >> wheel the skipper brought the craft around so that the foresail filled. Steering, the skipper at the same time let his gaze rove backward for more than two full minutes. No black-clad body, however, came to the surface. “Jake! Haul on the mainsheet!" bawled the skipper finally. Jake came, but as he hauled he called back: “See anything of that feller?” “Not a sight.” “It's tough!” declared Jake. “We'd better not go out to-night, skipper.' “Why not, you idiot?” “We won't have any luck, skipper!” “Jake, you're a fool. Haul away on the halyards." Yet, as the schooner made her way out the skipper himself was by no means at his ease. Because most sailors are superstitious. Finding that black-clad figure of one who had not even the power of speech, and then seeing that strange being leap overboard to his death, was a blow even to the stout nerves of the skip- per. He himself would much have preferred not putting out to sea that night. "Skipper,” hinted Jake, when he had made all fast, "ye better go a mile up the coast and anchor for to-night.” AND THE SMUGGLERS 69 7 Enough of the conversation from Jake and the skipper came back to cause the submarine boy to chuckle quietly. “So I'm a dead man, and going to be a ghost next, am I?” asked Benson of himself. “Jupi- ter! That may be a good thing to remember later on—for I'm sure I'm going to see a good bit of that pair." As the mainsail filled and the sheets were hauled in the schooner began to fade into the distance. “Now, I'll get on shore mighty quickly," mut- tered the submarine boy, letting go his hold. He swam out from under the pier and made his way up on to dry land. Along the road he fairly flew until he came to the pier on which he had landed early in the afternoon. Drawing a whistle from his pocket Jack blew a shrill signal on it. It was answered by a simi- lar whistle from the “Grant." In the black night Benson could not make out the figures of jackies tumbling over the side into the gig, but he knew, none the less, that they were doing it. Finally Jack heard, a slight creak of rowlocks, next saw the cutter coming shoreward through the darkness. Then the cutter ran up along- side the pier. “To the “Grant,' coxswain," Jack ordered, 70 THE SUBMARINE BOYS dropping into the sternsheets. “And give way with a will. Haste is the word.' None of the sailors discovered that their youthful commander was drenched. The rub- ber coat hid the young lieutenant completely, and it was natural, in such a rain, that it should appear to be wet. All the way out to the submarine craft Jack Benson kept his gaze on the now very dim light at the schooner's foremast head. “I've come aboard, Mr. Hastings," was Jack's formal greeting, as he stepped over the side, re- turning his junior's salute. “Have the gig made fast to the buoy and have everything in readiness for an immediate start.” “Very good, sir," was Hal's reply, with an- other exchange of salutes. "Where is Mr. Somers?" “Turned in, sir." “Let him sleep, then. We don't need him- now.' Hal quickly turned to give the order to make the gig fast to the nearby buoy, for no boat may be carried by a submarine on a cruise. “Gunner's mate!” called Jack sharply. That petty officer at once reported. "Order the engine-room watch on duty." “Very good, sir." More salutes were exchanged. AND THE SMUGGLERS 71. “All ready to cast off, sir," reported Hal. “Very good, Mr. Hastings. Make the anchor cable also fast to the buoy. Then station a man at the wheel. Do you see that light standing out to sea ?" “Yes, sir." “That light is to be our chase after we're under way, Mr. Hastings. Station a man at the wheel and give the engine-room signal as soon as the anchor cable is made fast." “Very good, sir." “Anchor cable made fast to the buoy, sir," reported a seaman, approaching and saluting. “Helmsman!” rang Hal's voice. "Aye, aye, sir.” “Do you see that masthead light two and a half-points off starboard bow ?” “Aye, aye, sir.' "Follow that light at six-mile speed." “Aye, aye, sir.' Down in the engine room a bell clanged. The “Grant” moved slowly ahead, gaining steerage way. Then, in another moment the engine stopped, leaving the submarine to drift. “Find out what's wrong, Mr. Hastings!” called Jack Benson sharply. Hal darted into the conning tower, and next below. In less than sixty seconds he was back on deck, saluting, 172 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “Sir, I regret to report that the engine re- fuses to work.' “What's wrong?” asked Jack, with a start. "I don't know, sir. I believe it's a small break. The engine-room watch are all busy trying to locate the trouble." "Take charge there, Mr. Hastings, and find out as quickly as you can,” Benson directed, ex- periencing a feeling of sudden dismay. Hal darted below. Minutes passed, as Jack Benson paced the very limited area of the tower platform, turning every few seconds to look at the schooner's masthead light, which was grow- ing dimmer and dimmer. CHAPTER VI HAL TAKES A HAND NEXT F INALLY, with a sigh, Jack dropped into the deck chair on which Ensign Hal had: been sitting before his commander's re- turn. Some minutes after that Hal Hastings stepped on deck. “Sir, the break is not a serious one,” he re- ported. Then he explained the nature of it, adding: “We shall be able to put in repair parts and have the engine running within half an hour." 74 THE SUBMARINE BOYS Drawing their chairs as far astern as they could the two submarine boys conversed in low tones. Jack told all that had befallen him on shore. “Now, do you think we're on the trail of the smugglers?” he asked. “It's hard to say," Hal replied. “Probably that pair on the schooner are up to some mis- chief, but it may merely be something that would interest the local police alone. What are your plans!" “My main plan is to stay up to-night," Ben- son responded. “Since I failed to discover where that schooner went I'm going to find out what she brings back." “That is, if she dumps any cargo here,” Hal added. “Of course. I haven't overlooked the fact that the schooner may put in somewhere else along the coast. “Yet it would be hard to find a quieter landing place than this. You may as well turn in, Hal, if you are sleepy, for I can hold the deck alone. I shan't turn in until I see that schooner heading in again.' "I won't turn in unless it's an order," Hal Hastings replied promptly. “I can sleep any day or night, but it isn't every day that we have a clue to watch." "I'll be glad enough of your company, you AND THE SMUGGLERS 75 can stand it out here in the wet,” Jack Benson nodded. “The rain is going to stop, by and by,” Hal answered, studying the sky. “When the stars come out it will be fine here on deck. So I'll stay up as long as you do." By midnight Hal's prediction of starlight was verified. Calling to the watch to bring dry chairs the two submarine boys shed their rain clothes and enjoyed themselves. Yet, at last, tired Nature began to assert her- self. The young officers frequently found them- selves nodding. At last Benson awoke with a start from what was probably a long nap. About a mile off on the water he made out a masthead light, also the red and green side- lights. Jack sprang to his feet, to find Ensign Hal sleeping soundly. Running to the conning tower Benson returned with a night glass, which he turned on the incoming vessel. “That's the “Velvet,' or I'm a Dutchman!" he muttered, with another start. Then he crossed the deck, shaking his chum. “Eh?" muttered Hal. “The schooner is coming in!" Hastings was 'on his feet in an instant, rub- bing his eyes. Then he reached for the marine glass. 78 THE SUBMARINE BOYS road. It was a one-story affair, perhaps fifteen by twenty-five feet in dimensions. It had a tumble down look, but it stood on higher ground almost across the road from the pier. “We can take a quick look, but it may be in- habited,” Jack went on, after calculating that the schooner was now within half a mile of her pier. As they reached the door Jack chuckled, for the door held a “to-let” sign. “Now, you go around to the right, and I to the left," Benson added. “We'll see if there is some way to get inside. This will make a fine watch box, if we can use it." A low whistle from Hal Hastings soon called his chum around to the other side of the shed. “Here's a window that isn't fastened,” Hal whispered. “In with you, then. I'll follow." Both were speedily inside, and the window closed. They moved forward to the glass door. “Now, if the sun would only rise an hour and a half ahead of time!" sighed Benson. “We'll be able to use our eyes in the dark- ness, the stars helping,” Hal urged. “Whatever cargo may be brought ashore, it probably can't all be handled in one load." “If they come ashore with anything," Jack suggested, “you slip out through the same win- AND THE SMUGGLERS 79 dow by which we entered, Hal, and trail along, keeping yourself shady, until you find where they stow the stuff. And I'll stay right here and watch for anything else that there may be to see.” By degrees, as Hal had foretold, their eyes became more and more accustomed to the dark- ness. They saw the hazy hulk of the “Velvet" round slowly in at her pier, sails aflap, and then beheld two men making the bow and stern lines fast. “Things ought to be moving, soon, if they're going to move," Hal Hastings breathed glee- fully. “Here come two men," Jack answered, “and I believe they're carrying something." “They're fairly staggering under their loads," Hal whispered back. “Each must be carrying a heavy packing case on his back.” “Blazes!” gasped Jack, an instant later. "They're coming-here!” That, indeed, seemed to be the case, for now the two burden bearers crossed the road and began to climb the slope toward the shanty in which the submarine boys had so far been hid- den. “Duck for your window, Hal! Open it softly,” breathed Jack. “I'll be right behind you!'; 80 THE SUBMARINE BOYS Jack retreated as he saw the two burden bear- ers come close to the door, but before he slipped away he made out one to be, as he had supposed, the skipper, while the other was Jake. Hal had started the window, and was prepared to raise it to the full extent. Outside a key was heard in the padlock on the door. “What's wrong?” the submarine boys heard Jake ask. "The key sticks. I'll keep on working it, while you put the goods through that window without a catch. Hurry up!” ordered the skip- per. Hal let the window down again as he heard Jake trudging around the corner. “Now, we're finely caught!" whispered Hast- ings. “We can't get out without being seen, and we can't stay in here without having a fight on our hands.' “We mustn't have either, if we can help it,' returned Jack, in a sharp whisper. “See if we can't find some place to hide.” Hal started toward the rear of the shed, Jack at his heels. Trip! One of Hal's feet caught against something on the floor. He would have measured his length had not Jack bent forward and caught him. “Don't do that again,” Benson whispered grimly. "And_hustle!" AND THE SMUGGLERS 81 >> “See here!” whispered back Hastings. "Here's a hole in the floor." Desperately Benson bent forward to examine the hole in the darkness, for now Jaké was close to the window. "It looks like a trap door," Benson told him- self, in feverish haste. “I believe it slides in- stead of raising.” He pushed his hand against the edge to test it. Noiselessly the trap door moved, as though on well-oiled bearings. “Down there with you," whispered Jack. “Rush, my boy! Drop-if there isn't a step. Jack followed just'as Jake began to raise the unfastened window. Hal had found a flight of stairs. So did Jack, who, as soon as he found his head below the level of the floor, quickly pushed the trap door shut. Bump! sounded the packing case, as Jake dumped it in through the window. Under cover of the noise of Jake's entry Jack Benson struck a match. The little flame showed them a cellar well filled with boxes. “It's the hiding place of the smugglers !" throbbed Hal in his ear. “It looks like it,” Jack whispered. “But / we've got to hide behind the furthest boxes. I'll try to lead the way. Hold on to my coat tail, and don't stumble or make any noise." -7 Submarine Boys. 82 THE SUBMARINE BOYS They had reached the forward end of the cel- lar by the time that Jake, having lighted a lantern, threw open the trap again and stepped on the stairs. Jack Benson drew his chum in behind a pile of boxes, whispering in Hastings's ear: “We're all right, I think, if we're not found here. But we'll be at a mean disadvantage if the rascals suspect that there's anyone hiding here. They'll hold all the tricks in their own hands!” CHAPTER VII PLAYING FLIP-FLOP WITH DANGER IN N the meantime the skipper of the “Velvet” had succeeded in opening the lock on the door. “Stay where you are, Jake," he called in a low voice. “I'll pass the stuff down to you. Jake, by now, was on the cellar bottom, hav- ing hung the lantern on a hook set in a post. From above the skipper passed the two cases, one after the other, down to Jake, who stood near the foot of the stairs. Having done this much the skipper, after clos- ing the trap overhead, came down to the cellar bottom. AND THE SMUGGLERS 83 “I reckon we're poor housekeepers, Jake,” declared the skipper, speaking in a lower tone than usual. “We'll have to straighten up all the stuff in this cellar, or we can't put much more in. What ails you, man?” This last question was shot out sharply, for a rat had scurried among the boxes in the cellar, making considerable noise. “What have you got that pistol in your hand for?” the skipper went on. “Jake, you're plumb nervous to-night. “I know I am," assented the deck hand. “Ever since we lost that chap overboard I've been seeing dead men's faces !” “Bosh!” cried the skipper, angrily. "Put that pistol up, Jake. The way you're handling that thing you'll shoot me, the first thing you know." “I'd shoot my own father to-night, if he slipped up behind me and scared me," Jake de- clared gruffly. “Put that pistol up. You've no business car- rying one." “I notice you always carry one, skipper," Jake retorted. “Of course I do, but I'm not nervous,” came the dry answer. “I carry a pistol so I can take care of revenue officers or spies of any kind. I don't mean ever to be spied upon or taken alive. AND THE SMUGGLERS 85 “Of all the fools!” growled the skipper ir- ritably. “I'd discharge him, but he knows too much about me! Now, to see how this stuff here can be set more ship shape. First of all, the forward end of this shore hold." Lantern and skipper were now headed straight for the hiding place of the submarine boys. Worst of all Jack, in the last peep he thought it wise to take, discovered that the gruff man of the sea was carrying his own revolver in his right hand! In an ambush, if well managed, the subma- rine boys might succeed in downing this man and disarming him. But that would reveal their, presence, which was exactly what Benson did not want to do. At what he judged the proper instant Jack nudged Hal, who slipped noiselessly over to his right, rounding a tier of boxes. Jack followed stealthily on his chum's heels just as the skipper went around the other side of the tier. Thus far they were safe from discovery, though there could be no telling at what mo- ment a false step might make a noise that must betray them. There was dim light throughout the cellar, though it was, of course, brighter in the near neighborhood of the lantern. “This row of boxes can be shoved back against 86 THE SUBMARINE BOYS the end of the cellar," muttered the skipper, half aloud, after a short inspection of his sur- roundings. “I'll start it now.” Under cover of this noise Jack and Hal cau- tiously slipped down the cellar along its north- ern side. On account of the dimness of the light they had to go slowly. Then, too, the greatest care was needed in stopping their slow progress whenever the skipper paused and all was silent. It now looked like an easy matter to get out of the cellar, and doubtless it would have been, but for a heavy tread overhead, followed by the appearance of Jake on the stairs. “Boss!” he called. “Hello!” answered the skipper, pausing in his work. “Where do you want this case?” “Drop it at the foot of the stairs. Wait, I'm coming.” Skipper and light moved down to meet Jake. At this instant Benson and Hastings were within a dozen feet of the foot of the stairs, crouching behind a low tier of boxes. “You've got five more cases to get up?" asked the skipper. “Right.” “Hustle them along. I'll open this one.' Hanging the lantern once more on the post- hook, the skipper picked up a hammer and cold AND THE SMUGGLERS 87 chisel, which he used with light taps of one against the other, soon prying half the lid from the top of the case Jake had just brought. “I can finish this later, though,” muttered the skipper, half aloud. “It will be better if I go above and watch Jake. He wouldn't have more sense than to come right in with a big box even if he met someone on the road at this hour of the night.” Feeling to see that his revolver was in his right hand coat pocket, the skipper next ascended the stairs, leaving the lantern on the hook. “It's now, I guess, if ever!” breathed Jack in his chum's ear. “But we'll have to be mighty careful, not to be seen or heard !” As he reached the opened case, however, Ben- son could not resist the temptation to thrust his right hand inside the box. What he brought out was a smaller box. “Havana cigars !” he whispered, after study- ing the label on the box. Then he slipped it under his jacket. “Isn't that almost stealing ?” whispered Hal. “Hardly. I'm taking it for evidence-also for another purpose that I'll explain to you by and by. Now, follow me softly up the steps." Jack went up in the lead until his head was almost through the trap. He had barely AND THE SMUGGLERS 89 Not until Jake had trudged up with the last case did the skipper follow his deck hand below. “Now, that we've got everything up from the boat,” said the skipper, “we may as well bring out the straw and sleep here on the floor. When we've had a sleep there'll be a lot of work to do, and, even if I am the owner of this old shed I don't want the village folks to see you and me going in and coming out of an empty shed in broad daylight. They might wonder what we found to do in a place that everybody around here supposes to be empty. Get out the straw, Jake, and fix it, and we'll have a real sleep for a few hours." As he spoke the skipper thrust a hand down into the case that he had already opened. “Jake," he inquired, with sudden suspicion, “did your suspender need much fixing?" “Not much," replied the deck hand. “I thought not,” leered the skipper. “But there's a box of cigars gone from this case." “I didn't take it,” flared up Jake. “I'll talk to you about that after we've had our nap,” replied the skipper grimly. Though Jake muttered savagely, both pres- ently lay down on piles of straw just at the foot of the steps. Overhead, the trap had been left open a little, to give them air. Within two minutes, hours of hard work had 7 90 THE SUBMARINE BOYS driven both men into slumber. But the skipper stirred, every now and then, like one accustomed to wake on the least alarm. “Going to try it?" asked Hal, knowing the thought uppermost in his chum's mind. “Wait until I take a peep and see, » whis- pered Benson in his chum's nearer ear. As Jack glanced about the sight did not espe- cially please him. Even though the lantern now burned dimly the two men lay in such positions that it was going to be ticklish work to step over them and reach the stairs. Besides, each man lay with his revolver gripped in his right hand. “It wouldn't be good for one's health to wake them too suddenly,” young Benson muttered dryly to himself. “Going to try it?" insisted whispering Hal. “M-m-m-m! Wait a little, and see how wise it looks." Not until five minutes later did Jack nudge his chum, then give a nod. “We'll take a chance," whispered Jack. “I'm willing to take one chance at anything, Hal told himself, as he pivoted softly on his feet, prepared to follow his leader with the stealth of a cat. AND THE SMUGGLERS 91 CHAPTER VIII BENSON TRIES HIS HAND AT HUMOR HO OLDING their breath the chums ad- vanced. The distance was short enough, but the danger great. It was not the danger to their own lives that disturbed the submarine boys most. Both knew what a sad blunder it would be to let this pair of rascals discover that their secret was known. For it was not this pair, first of all, that Ben- son had been set to catch. These men were but the tools of cleverer rascals who must be caught before any alarm could reach them. A step at a time Jack moved. A step at the same time Hal Hastings took. Both submarine boys were quivering from the importance of their task and the risk attached to any blunder at the present moment. Benson was about to step over Jake when that worthy turned slightly in his sleep, causing "gooseflesh” to break out all over the young lieutenant, who halted. Presently Jake settled into deeper slumber, without having awakened. Nor had the skip- per stirred lately, which might be all the more 92 THE SUBMARINE BOYS reason for imagining that he would stir very soon. Jake, in partly turning, had withdrawn his hand three or four inches from the butt of his revolver. Tempted more by mischief than any idea of increasing his own safety, Jack Benson bent over, quickly picking up the weapon. Then his heart beating fast, he stepped over Jake and placed a foot on the lower step. In another moment he was half way up the steps. Now he turned to beckon Hal. As Hast- ings reached him Benson motioned his chum to pass on up and out ahead of him. The trap door proved to be open so little, and the danger of opening it more was so apparent, that Hal had a tight squeeze of it in getting through. Once on the floor above Hastings lay flat, reaching down and taking the pistol from his chum, in order to cover Jack's escape in the event of the skipper awakening. After what seemed ages to the two quick- pulsed boys Jack Benson was through and kneel- ing on the floor above. “Now, for the window, and to get it open, whispered Jack, in his chum's ear, as he took the revolver again. “I'll stay here and make sure that the skipper doesn't hear something, 4 Jack Bent Over, Picking Up the Weapon. 93 AND THE SMUGGLERS 95 wake up and charge through the trap. I think a bullet, even if it goes wild, will cause him to duck below again.” Hal presently had the window up, having made no noise sufficient to disturb the sleepers below. He crept quietly out, and Jack, after glancing in that direction, tip-toed over and was soon on the ground outside. “Close the window," Jack directed. "We can't leave it open, or they would at least sus- pect that someone had been prowling." So Hal closed the window, while Jack Benson slipped Jake's revolver back into his pocket. Then the pair stole swiftly away, for it was well past the coming of daylight, though no one appeared to be astir in the little village. Their course took them directly to the pier at which the “Grant's” gig usually landed. A single blast on his whistle, and a wave of the hand to a sailor of the deck watch was sufficient. Within three minutes a boat's crew was seen to tumble up on deck, then over the side into the gig. The oarsmen bent lustily to their work. Jack and Hal, having hardly spoken, and then only about the freshness of the morning, took their seats in the stern sheets of the gig. Very soon they were on board. They went directly to the miniature wardroom after having locked the outer door of the passageway. 96 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “Oh, wow!” exploded the young lieutenant, his dignity flying to the winds for the moment. He rocked back and forth in his seat as he produced the revolver and the box of cigars and laid them on the table. “What's the joke?” asked Hal, smiling. “You're unusually thick, if you don't see,” Benson replied, with another chuckle. “You're 'in' just one box of cigars. You don't smoke and you have a contempt for those who carry firearms when they don't absolutely have to do it. Besides, there are plenty of weapons on board, as this is a war craft. The cigars you can only present to such of the sail- ors as smoke.' “Don't you see the point? Don't say that you don't," begged Jack Benson, going off into another spasm of laughter. “I didn't mean this as humor, but it has suddenly struck me that it is a rich joke." “I'm in the dark,” sighed Hal. “Why, see here, chum. Old Skipper Red- beard missed the box of cigars before he lay down to sleep. He hinted that Jake had stolen them, didn't he? He threatened to take that up with Jake as soon as he awoke. Now, when Jake wakes up, he'll find his pistol gone. The skipper had been 'roasting' him about being too afraid and depending too much on his pistol. 98 THE SUBMARINE BOYS >> “No," replied Hastings gravely; "we stole these things.” “From the enemy, the smugglers,” Jack added. “Haven't you two been the busy little boys!" commented Ensign Somers. “Then you've really seen the smugglers?” “Have we?" demanded Hal. “Jack tell him about it, and especially the way in which you have divided the smugglers' camp against it- self." Eph listened. He began to grin when he heard how the cigars and the pistol came to be on the wardroom table. “That'll start a row, all right, between Skip- per Redbeard and his man, Friday,” agreed Eph Somers. “I only hope it doesn't turn out to be such a big row that they separate, and then Redbeard doesn't dare smuggle any more smug- glings for fear that said Jake will go back on him and denounce him." Jack's face became instantly grave; he whis- tled. Then, gradually, his face cleared. “No; I don't believe their row will split them,” he went on. ' "Both are probably mak- ing far more money at this job of theirs than they could make in any other way, so they'll hold together. But each will be more suspicious of the other after this. They won't work in 100 THE SUBMARINE BOYS 27 97 “Although it's a cigar box, we really haven't taken the trouble to make sure that it contains cigars.” He brought the box out, placing it on the table, and, with a knifeblade, pried the lid up. “Cigars, all right,” nodded Eph. “Cigars, yes,” Benson admitted, “but we don't know that they're all right. "The only way to find out,” laughed Ensign Somers, “would be to try one on a sailor." ‘A sailor is a fine fellow, but no judge of ci- gars,” smiled Benson, as he tapped down the box-lid. “A sailor will smoke anything, even a piece of tarred rope." “And you two had all this fun on shore, and never let me in on it,” grumbled Eph. “There had to be at least one officer on the boat," Benson replied. “If you do anything in the matter to-day," begged Somers, “can't you let me have a hand in it?" “Certainly,” promised Jack dryly. “Just now, I'd be obliged if you would go up on the platform deck and sit under the baby awning there. I want to write a letter." The instant his chums had departed Lieuten- ant Jack went over and seated himself by the typewriting machine. Putting on a sheet of of- ficial paper the submarine boy began a rather 22 AND THE SMUGGLERS 101 lengthy letter to the Secretary of the Navy. In this he stated, fully, what he had learned to date, and suggested, very respectfully, that, if it met the views of the authorities at Washington, Se- cret Service men might be sent to Boxhaven to trace all express shipments sent out from the shanty. The preparation of this letter took some time. Jack addressed the envelope, then put in the let- ter, sealing it. His next step was to wrap up the cigar box, addressing that also to the Secretary of the Navy. Then he rang for the waiter. “My compliments to Mr. Somers, and ask him to report.” Eph came in, saluting. “You wanted a hand in to-day's doings?” Jack hinted. “Yes, sir.' “All right. All we are going to do will be to mail this letter and this package to the Secre- tary. You may detail a sailor to carry the mail bag for you and see to it that these two articles are mailed.” “Say, isn't that a bit of a messenger boy job for an officer of the Navy?” asked Somers. “Not at all, when it is necessary to make sure that these have been mailed. The matter is so important that I don't care to entrust it to any- one below an officer's rank." AND THE SMUGGLERS 103 "What's the matter?” asked Hal, waking up. “Just what we had been expecting,” Jack re- plied, pushing the sheet of paper across the table. Hal read these words, bearing also the signa- ture of the Secretary of the Navy. “Expense no longer justified by results. Proceed to Norfolk Navy Yard. There report to Department." CHAPTER IX WIRELESS WAFTS A WAIL OF TRAGEDY “W HAT are you going to do about it?" Hal asked, his face paling. “What is there for a Navy man to do but obey orders?” Jack inquired. “What? Just when we are succeeding! Let all the credit go to the Secret Service men?” “Wait a little,” smiled Jack, “and I'll show you how I'm going to obey orders." Taking up a fresh sheet he began to write. When he had finished he picked up the code book, translating his despatch into the code: “Order to Norfolk received. Have just lo- cated depot sought, and know method of reach- ing coast. Long letter just mailed, also sam- AND THE SMUGGLERS 105 > He heard the news with utter indignation. “Ordered back when we've just gotten next to our job!” blurted Ensign Eph Somers. «That's what I call- “All in the line of duty,” broke in Lieuten- ant Benson quietly, “if the second wire confirms the first. But the telegram you hold is in line with this,” added the young commander, hand- ing Eph the sheet containing the first draft in ordinary English. “We'll go to Norfolk, despite that telegram," Hal predicted. “Yes; we may as well check our baggage to Norfolk,” grunted Somers. “Even if we do have to drop the case now, Jack argued, “we've found the trail for the Se- cret Service men, and that is more than they were able to do in some months of trying.” “I'll be ten minutes late in returning," grunted Eph. “I'm going to take the last chance, this side of Norfolk, of putting two ice cream sodas under my uniform belt. Want to come, Hal?" “Mr. Hastings would be overjoyed,” replied Jack, speaking for his other junior, “but he is now going forward to inspect the engines.” “In order to make sure that they're in or- der for the run to Norfolk," was Ensign Eph's parting-growl as he left the wardroom. 106 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “Mr. Somers!” Jack called after him. “Sir!” responded Eph, returning and salut- ing. “What's your full capacity in the way of ice cream sodas?” "I don't know," Somers answered. "Never worked it out. One day, I remember, I put away eighteen, but I wasn't filled up." “Then if you really want more ice cream sodas I authorize you to remain on shore until the arrival of the Department's answer to that wire.” “Say, that's fine," glowed Eph, and fell to counting his money. “Can I lend you any cash ?” smiled Jack. “Thank you, no. I've sixty dollars left from my last month's pay. If that won't buy all the sodas I can use, at least it will buy all that I ought to have.” Four minutes later Eph Somers was once more at the landing pier. Two hours later Somers returned, bearing a yellow envelope, which he handed the young commander. “I've had enough ice cream sodas to last half way to Norfolk,” Eph announced. “I'll go to station and be ready to get under way.” “Better wait until I see what the orders are,' Jack replied, opening the envelope. “Why, it's 17 AND THE SMUGGLERS 107 "A in ordinary English. All it says is: 'Await further orders at present anchorage. “Your despatch must have given the Secre- tary something to think about,” Eph grinned. “I'm in hopes the Department will let us go through with this matter," was all Benson had to say as he locked the telegram away. Ensign Hal reported the engines in perfect working order. “That's as it should be,” nodded Jack. Navy craft's engines should be ready to start on the instant, for one never knows when the call to instant duty may come. Luncheon being served, the young officers had little to do for the afternoon. Jack, in fact, lay on his berth, sound asleep, after the sleepless night, when there came a knock on the door jamb of his stateroom. Pushing back the curtain Benson saw the gunner's mate with right hand at salute. “Mr. Hastings's compliments, sir, and he in- structed me to report that a black looking squall is coming up out of the east." "Thank you, mate. I'll be on deck directly." Quickly drawing on his shoes, adjusting his collar and buttoning his uniform blouse, Jack, cap in hand, made for the platform deck. “It looks like a live one coming,” Hal smiled, pointing seaward. 108 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “Yes; but I fancy it will give us very little trouble,” Jack replied. “This bay is fairly well protected. However, order one of the en- gine-room post to his station so that we may start speed at once if we break loose from moor- ings.” “Very good, sir.” Jack remained on deck, standing, at first, and watching the oncoming “weather.” “It looks like more than a brief squall,” ven- tured Ensign Hal, returning from below. “It does, indeed,” Benson agreed. “But you need maintain, besides the engine-room man, only the usual deck watch. I shall be on deck most of the time.' Being still tired Benson dropped into a deck chair, though he fought against any more nap- ping for the present. Within an hour the storm broke. Even in advance of the arrival of the wind great white- capped combers could be made out a few miles to the eastward. Then the wind broke loose, coming at first at the rate of fifty miles an hour, but soon increasing to seventy. Rain fell for a couple of hours. Even after it ceased the wind continued, scarcely abating in velocity. At the outburst of the gale Jack had sum- moned Hal Hastings. “Run up our aërials, and put one of the wire- AND THE SMUGGLERS 109 re- less men at the instrument,” he commanded. “Some craft may be in distress, and we want to catch any message that may be flying." Within the bay the water, though rough, was not so rough but that a shore boat might be operated with safety by a skilled oarsman. Out on the broad Atlantic, however, the waves were running high and with fury. “It will be a rough time for any sailing ves- sel too close to shore,” Eph remarked, .coming upon Jack, who, in rain clothes, had returned to the deck just before six o'clock. "That's why I had the aërial put up, plied Benson, nodding to the jointed hollow metal pole that had been rigged in place just behind the tower. This jointed metal pole, in three sections, could be run up to a total height of thirty-one feet. On account of the fury of the wind, how- ever, Hal had sent the pole but twenty-five feet in the air. Even as it was the gale blew against the aërial pole with such force as to make the little “Grant” quiver. “Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes,” Jack added. “You see how secure our position has been in this little bay. At the height of the gale, even, we didn't strain seriously at the moorings cable." “There's a shore boat putting off," reported 110 THE SUBMARINE BOYS Eph, approaching his brother officers. “I can't help feeling that it's a telegram for us." The boat came alongside, rowed by two men, while a third sat at the tiller. As he came nearer the helmsman held up a yellow envelope. “Come up close under our lee side," shouted Benson, through a megaphone. “Don't want to scrape your paint,” called back the helmsman. "I don't care about the paint,” Jack shouted back. "I don't want to see you capsize. Hu- man lives are worth more than paint. So the helmsman obeyed, coming up in the lee, where his boat was safer both from wind and sea. “Sign for this, Mr. Somers," called Jack, as he reached over and received the envelope. Then Benson hurried to the tower, where an electric light burned. “The telegram is from the Department, and in English,” he added, as his two brother offi- cers stepped into the tower to hear the news. “Whew!” he went on breathlessly. "The Brown G line steamship, 'Cynthia,' is in great distress. She has sent in a wireless, which was relayed to Washington. Here are the latitude and longitude given. She's about two hundred miles east of here. Propeller shaft broken and sprung a leak. All hands at pumps, but can AND THE SMUGGLERS 111 keep afloat only a few hours longer. Six hun- dred and forty human beings on board. First boats launched swamped, with no loss of life, but captain does not dare launch more boats un- til sea becomes calmer. Boats enough left for only about two hundred and fifty of those on board, even if boats may be launched safely. Department orders us to hasten to scene at full- est speed. Other craft ordered to the scene, but the Department believes we can get there at least two hours ahead of any other vessels. We are ordered to save all life possible. Mr. Som- ers!" “Here, sir!" “Lash the gig to deck astern-like lightning. Call all hands to help. We may lose the gig, but we want it if we can get through the gale with it. Then order all hands below, after loos- ing from moorings and getting under way. Take the conning tower watch yourself with the helmsman. Take due east course until order is changed. Mr. Hastings, stand by the engine- room watch and see that we get the whole of our thirty-mile speed. Mr. Somers, detain the shore boat until my answer to the Department is ready." As the two junior officers sprang to obey their orders, and the sailors came swarming up through the tower, Benson stepped aside, taking 112 THE SUBMARINE BOYS out fountain pen and paper. He sent this de- spatch back to the Department at Washington: “We start as soon as this wire goes over the side. Hope to reach steamship Cynthia' be- fore one o'clock in the morning. Will save every life possible.' This telegram the young submarine com- mander handed in person to the messenger from shore. In the meantime, Eph, with the full crew, had hauled the gig on board, overturned it and was now engaged in lashing it in place, bottom up- permost. The oars and rowlocks were taken below. Within five minutes the cast off was made. As Lieutenant Jack passed through the cabin he called to the sailor at the wireless instru- ment: “Operator, try to get some wireless station, and report to the Navy Department that the "Grant' is under way.' “Very good, sir." Just as the operator secured the attention of a station up the coast the throb of the “Grant’s” two propeller shafts was felt. Telegram in hand Jack went into the ward- room, followed by Ensign [al. Out on to the table the charts were drawn. Working with his instruments Jack Benson lo- AND THE SMUGGLERS 113 cated the exact position given for the “Cyn- thia.” Then he determined the course to a nicety, and took the result to Eph. “It's going to be a fearful night's work!" quivered Ensign Hal, when Jack returned to the wardroom. “Four hundred people on that steamship for whom there are no boats. We have a gig that may hold twelve or fifteen, and can possibly crowd sixty or seventy people on board here. We must see the rest drown if we reach the ‘Cynthia' before she goes down." “I shall be heart broken,” replied Lieutenant Jack Benson, compressing his lips grimly, "if we can't perform the impossible and save every human life that is in danger on the 'Cynthia'!" CHAPTER X ON THE SCENE OF AN OCEAN DISASTER "H OW are you going to do that?" asked Hal incredulously. "I don't know," Jack Benson an- swered, leaning back with a look of stern deter- mination. “I only know that I feel more awake than I ever felt before in my life. And I know, too, that the spirit is surging within me to-night to attempt the impossible without a trace of fear or misgiving. Also, and further, I know that 8- -7 Submarine Bays. 114 THE SUBMARINE BOYS I have two as capable brother officers with me as the American Navy contains. Is that answer enough for you?” “It ought to be," Hal Hastings answered, his face glowing. “For I've seen you do the im- possible before.” “But I can't do it alone,” Jack went on. “You and Eph will have to back me to-night as even you never backed me before." “I'll go to the bottom cheerfully, if that will help to save the life of any woman or child on board that doomed steamship,” said Hal simply. “I know you will,” agreed Jack warmly, grasping his chum's hand. “That's the spirit of the American Navy in all times of stress or danger. But, Hal, going to the bottom in this angry sea won't accomplish anything. You've got to be on your feet, clear-headed and active. Let us see how many we have to depend on. The crew's cook and our cook, the crew's waiter and our waiter. Four men from whom we can expect nothing, for to-night's work will be out of their line. Three men on the engine-room watch, but they are needed at their station. A gunner's mate and twelve seamen, all of them as fine men as the Navy holds; and three officers. Sixteen of us to do the real work to-night!" Jack and Hal remained in the wardroom for the present. No officer or man was allowed on AND THE SMUGGLERS 115 the platform deck, over which huge waves were now rolling. They were not needed in the con- ning tower, for Ensign Eph Somers was there with the helmsman, and Somers could do full duty there. Hal had inspected the engines, and had found them running without hitch. Presently, however, Lieutenant Benson climbed to the conning tower. “Have you been using the searchlight, Mr. Somers?” he inquired. “Not after leaving the coast three miles be- hind, sir,” Eph answered. “We don't want to wreck ourselves or any other craft by a collision,” Jack went on. “Don't be too sparing of the searchlight. I will send up a man to serve it for you." “Very good. Thank you, sir.” “It's tough, just waiting and wondering whether we are going to be on time, or whether we are going to arrive too late to rescue those poor souls," quivered Hal, who was strongly sympathetic by nature. “I'm going to do all my worrying and tremb- ling when I reach the spot,” laughed Benson shortly. “As there's simply nothing for us to do now I move that we sit down to dinner.' “Dinner!" echoed Hal, almost aghast. “Yes, we may have a mighty wet time of it before we get through. Plenty of nourishment >> 116 THE SUBMARINE BOYS will warm the blood and tend to ward off chill. It's half-past six now, and we can't reach the Cynthia' for more than six hours yet, so we may as well fortify ourselves. Come into the wardroom." “Dinner can be served at any moment, sir, announced the mess waiter, meeting the pair of young officers at the doorway of the passage. "Then serve it at once,” Jack replied. Though the “Grant” was staunch, and need not fear shipping water, she was rolling and pitching not a little. On the wardroom table racks had been fastened to keep dishes from slid- ing to the floor. “I feel guilty to be eating," declared Hal, "when I think of the hundreds of terror-stricken people on the ‘Cynthia.'" “We're going to eat," Benson replied simply, “that we may have more strength for the fine work we're praying we may be able to do be- fore daylight.” At first Hastings couldn't find his appetite. Gradually, however, he began to eat with more relish. The young lieutenant, however, made a hearty meal from the first. “Now, you'd better go and relieve Eph,” Jack advised, at the end of the meal. “Eph will want something in his stomach, too." Ensign Somers obeyed the call with alacrity. AND THE SMUGGLERS 117 Through the night the engines continued to do full duty, yet it seemed to Lieutenant Benson that never had he known the hours to drag so slowly. The short reach of the “Grant's” wire- less apparatus worried him. On account of the low height of the aërials the submarine boat could not send much beyond thirty miles, though she might pick up messages sent from a some- what greater distance. At eleven o'clock Benson halted beside the seaman at the instrument. “From now on, operator, send the call 'Cyn- thia,' every five minutes until you pick that ves- sel up." “Very good, sir.” Jack took a seat in the crowded cabin, not far from the wireless instrument. Hal, pacing rest- lessly, at last joined his young commander. The unemployed sailors huddled by themselves. There was little conversation. At half-past eleven the operator reported: “I think, sir, that some vessel is trying to reach us." “Can't you make out anything?" demanded Lieutenant Jack, leaping to his feet. "No, sir; you can hear the feeble sound from the instrument." 'It must be the ‘Cynthia,'” Jack guessed. "Then her dynamo must have given out, and 118 THE SUBMARINE BOYS her operator is working from the accumulators, which must be very weak, sir," replied the sea- man operator. “Keep on trying," directed Jack Benson tersely. At a quarter to twelve the operator reported: “Here comes the word, Cynthia,' but it's feebly spelled, sir." “Keep flashing back the answer, then," Jack ordered eagerly, his face breaking out in smiles. “Thank goodness she's still afloat. Tell the 'Cynthia,' too, to send up rockets from now on, and to burn Coston lights for our guidance. “She's still afloat, then!" quivered Ensign Hastings joyously, as his chum turned. Though he appeared cool Jack Benson could no longer wait below. He climbed to the con- ning tower, taking his station beside Eph. By this time the sea was running with much less violence than it had been at the time of their start. There was every evidence that the water would continue to grow calmer. A few minutes after Jack reached the tower some of the stars began to show. But Benson had no eyes for stars. He was watching for rockets. “There's one, Eph!” he cried presently. “I see it," nodded Ensign Somers. “Shall I change the course and go straight for that rocket?' AND THE SMUGGLERS 119 “Of course!' From now on they made out a rocket nearly every minute. It was plain sailing as to the course. At last the Coston lights came into view. In the meantime the wireless man below was trying to keep the ill-fated steamer informed of the “Grant's” approach. Jack suddenly laid hands on the apparatus controlling the searchlight. This he turned up against the sky, signaling by flashes, in the Morse alphabet: “Good cheer. With you in a little while. Coming at full speed!" “I can almost hear the poor fellows cheer- ing,” smiled Jack Benson, turning to Eph. "Now, I'm going below to get into rough service clothes." “Shall I, sir?" inquired Eph Somers. “No; remain at this post until we've done all that is possible yonder." Going below Jack called to Ensign Hal to follow him and get into rough clothing. But their blouses and uniform caps remained in sight, proclaiming them to be naval officers. “Drop a revolver into your pocket, Hal,” Jack called from his stateroom. “I hope we won't have to use any such murderous weapon, though.” Then Jack stepped out, followed by his chum. 120 THE SUBMARINE BOYS "Gunner's mate!" Lieutenant Benson sum- moned sharply. “Pick out the six best men at boat handling and arm them all with rifles and thirty rounds in belts. I shall take you and the men for boat's crew if we find the gig fit to launch." Before long the hull of the "Cynthia," a six- thousand ton boat, now low in the water, loomed up clearly ahead under the glare of the subma- rine's searchlight. She was drifting nearly helplessly. A try- sail on the foremast supplied the only steerage way that the doomed craft could use. From the bilge pumps came constant streams of water, showing the only means by which the stricken vessel had been kept afloat through the long hours of the night. All this Lieutenant Jack Benson studied by the aid of glass and searchlight as the “Grant” covered the last two or three miles of distance lying between the two craft. “Go as close as you can, under what lee there is,” Benson ordered Ensign Somers. “I shall want to megaphone the captain, if possible." Yet it was not wise to go too close. The “Cynthia” might roll, pitch and then dive be- low at any moment. The night had now cleared, and the sea had become almost calm when Lieutenant Jack or- 19 AND THE SMUGGLERS 121 dered the after door of the conning tower opened. He stepped outside, followed by the gunner's mate and the six sailors. "Don't display your rifles more than you can help, men," Jack called to them. “Leave them in the tower until we see whether the gig may be safely launched. If not, mate, the ‘Cynthia' will have to reach us with one of her own boats." Hundreds of white faces could now be made out along the rail of the steamship. The re- maining boats hung at the davits. Plainly the steamship's captain was waiting to confer ere he took any new step. Hal, who had followed his commander, stood by, saying nothing—his breath coming quick and fast. The steamship's electric lights burned feebly, yet they gave some illumination to the scene. Evidently the fires under the boilers had already been drawn, and the lights were drawing only on the current left in storage batteries. As the submarine began to close in on the other craft Benson suddenly beheld a surging rush toward one of the life boats. Then the flash of revolver fire showed against the night, though the report did not reach the Navy men. A man dropped before the pistol's fire—one of the ship's Chinese waiters as the submarine boys afterwards learned. 122 THE SUBMARINE BOYS 99 "The panic aboard must be fearful, when men try to rush the life boats with rescue in sight, Jack declared. “The poor wretches know that this little craft can't hold them all,” Ensign Hal Hastings re- plied mournfully. CHAPTER XI "I "WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST!” THINK the gig is all right, sir," reported the gunner's mate, saluting. “We have her free, already to launch.” “Stand by to launch, then,'' ordered Jack. Eph, in the meantime, was trying to run in close enough for megaphone hailing. “Don't go any closer,” Lieutenant Jack or- dered, at last. Picking up his megaphone, he hailed the foundering steamship. A reply came back, but what it was none on the submarine's deck could make out. “I'll have to give that up, Benson mut- tered. “We'll have to go alongside in the gig, if possible. Gunner's mate, try to launch the gig." This was accomplished, the gig floating in the lee of the “Grant” and showing herself to be AND THE SMUGGLERS 123 still seaworthy. The oars were passed up from below, the seaman, securing their rifles and tak- ing their places in the boat. “Give way!" directed Benson, after he and Hal had taken their places. The gig had never been intended for very rough water. It bobbed about like a cockle shell, even though the sailors bent to the oars and sent her skimming over the water. The hundreds on the “Cynthia's” deck watched anxiously as Eph turned the search- light on the gig and the surrounding waters, ever shifting the light as the gig advanced. "That boat will be sunk. It can't live!" went up the terror-stricken shout from the watchers on the liner. Many a sea was shipped. It looked as if the gig must founder, for she was not fitted with air-tight compartments to keep her afloat when flooded. White-faced, but stern, with jaws set, and eyes peering straight ahead, the coxswain put all his skill into play. A wave bigger than the others was coming. It seemed certain that the gig would be caught and engulfed. “Give way harder!” yelled the coxswain. He turned to watch the wave. Just before it reached them the coxswain turned the bow of the 124 THE SUBMARINE BOYS boat, riding to meet the wave. In another in- stant the small craft was a-top the wave, and riding it in brief safety. Another hard spurt of pulling. The cox- swain steered the boat in where the hull of the sinking liner would shield it from the worst of the waves for a while. “Splendily done, Adams!” glowed Lieutenant Jack. “Thank you, sir," replied the coxswain, still keeping his eyes on his work. “Boat ahoy!” roared a voice from the prom- enade deck. “If you can live there a minute I'll have the side gangway loaded." “Never mind that! Throw us a line, sir ! Two lines!” Jack Benson shouted back. Down came a swirling rope, aimed for the bow. Gunner's Mate Crystal caught it. A sec- ond came for the stern. Benson made it his by right of capture. Up he went, hand over hand along the rope, with the agility and sureness of a sailor, while the gunner's mate did the same with the other line. The seamen followed, their rifles slung over their backs. Hal followed Lieutenant Jack. Only the cox- swain remained in the boat. It was his to care for. AND THE SMUGGLERS 125 "Where is the captain?” Jack Benson called, as soon as his feet slipped over the rail. “Here," replied a gray-haired man, stepping forward. “Why, your commander sent only a midshipman.” “I am the commander of the 'Grant,'" Jack replied quietly. “I am Benson, junior lieuten- ant, U. S. Navy." “Why, you look to be only a boy,” stam- mered Captain Drew. “Perhaps that's all I am, sir, " Jack smiled. “This is my second in command, sir, Ensign Hastings.” Captain Drew grasped a hand of each, at the same time hurriedly introducing himself. “How long do you think you can keep afloat?" Benson asked. “Not more than two or three hours prob- ably,” replied Captain Drew. This word was heard by the crowding passen- gers and passed back through the throng. A wail of panic and terror went up. Then the throng started to surge forward for the life boats. “Ready, men," Jack called quietly. “Un sling your rifles. Open magazines. Load magazines. Close magazines. Now, men, un- derstand me. You will aid Captain Drew and his ship's officers in loading the life boats. Re- 126 THE SUBMARINE BOYS If you member-women and children first! see any man trying to rush a place in any of the boats, shoot him on the spot and without an in- stant's hesitation. No true man will try to steal a woman's seat in a life boat, but some dastardly coward may, and if he does he de- serves to die instantly." That is the law of the sea in time of wreck. “Women and children first!" If there are seats left then the men may be provided for. But any man who tries to deprive a weaker being of a seat may be killed remorselessly. No law will punish the slayer! “Lieutenant, I thank you for bringing armed men—they're needed,” cried Captain Drew, in a voice husky with emotion. “We've a good many American and English men on board. They're helping the crew with a hearty good will to man the pumps and keep us afloat a lit- tle longer. But we've a foreign horde aboard, also some of the scum of the world, and many of them armed. They've tried to rush the life boats already, and that was why I haven't all my boats over the side. My officers have shot down three men, already, for heading rushes. We just killed a Chinaman for that trick before you came alongside." Then Captain Drew gave orders to his mates to lower the boat. A seaman from the “Grant' AND THE SMUGGLERS 127 went with each mate, stationing himself by a boat, ready to shoot any man who entered a boat without authority. “See here, you young jack-in-uniform, you've no right to keep anyone out of a boat who can get in one!” bawled a hoarse-voiced man, crowd- ing close. “From your speech you might be an Ameri- can?” hinted Jack coldly. “I am, and just as much of an American as you are! You've no right to keep me out of a boat!" “If you claim to be an American,” Lieuten- ant Benson retorted hotly, “then you lie! I don't care where you were born. Any real American has at least a boy's share of courage about him!” "There are men back of me who mean busi- ness!” stormed the fellow who had insisted that he was an American. “If you try to stop us, we'll rush you and throw you overboard." Turning, the fellow called out in some foreign tongue. There was a wild surging forward. Women shrieked as they were trampled on. Benson drew his revolver, Hal doing the same. But Jack switched his pistol into his left hand, leaping forward and felling the self-proclaimed American with a force that nearly broke the rascal's jaw. 128 THE SUBMARINE BOYS " Any “Understand me!” roared Benson. fellow who doesn't behave himself like a man won't even be alive to know when this ship goes down!" Captain Drew had also drawn his revolver. Gunner's Mate Crystal darted in among the crowding wretches, shoving his rifle muzzle in face after face. The cowardly gang gave way with a sullen roar of fear. “Women and children forward!” shouted Captain Drew. "Come just as you are. We'll do no choosing." “How many women and children are there on board, sir!” Lieutenant Benson asked. "Three hundred and eighty-eight!” “You can't get them all in the boats, sir.' “I know it,” confessed Captain Drew. "We'll take all we can on the 'Grant.'” “How many can you take there?” “Not more than seventy, even packing them like sardines.'' One woman in the crowd did some quick men- tal arithmetic. “You can't save us all, then," she cried, drawing back. “I'll give up my chance to some mother with children." “Madam, my hat's off," glowed Lieutenant Jack, turning and suiting the action to the word. “But every woman and child on board is going 130 THE SUBMARINE BOYS "What?" “Get the carpenters here on the jump, sir, if you please!" Jack called, as he turned to dart away to oversee the bringing up of doors. “Have other men round up all the inch rope you can get." All the boats were away by this time, except the gig, which the lonely coxswain was making heroic efforts to keep afloat. “This is all right for you, you naval officer!” yelled a man hidden in the crowd. “When you get tired or scared you can go back to your craft and be safe!" “My man," Jack shouted back coldly, "I give you my word that I won't seek safety while there's anyone else left on this wreck!” That promise brought a cheer from the more manly ones. CHAPTER XII JACK PROMISES TO SAVE HIMSELF LAST B Y now the cream of the male passengers -the real men on board-came piling up from below where they had been at work at the pumps. Captain Drew had sent for them. Jack shouted out his directions for bringing AND THE SMUGGLERS 131 doors on deck. These tired men from the pumps responded with a ready will. Last of all, came the remaining members of the crew from the pumps, which were now abandoned. Slam! slam! slam! Doors were being dropped to the deck everywhere. The carpen- ter and his assistants came running with the bits and augers. 'Captain,” cried Jack, running up, "attend to getting your side gangway down. We shall need it." Then he flew back to the carpenters. He in- structed them to drill two holes in each end of every door. “Some of you seamen come forward with the rope,” Lieutenant Benson called. “Reeve ropes through these holes. Lash twelve doors to each set, so that the doors will be tied end to end. Rush, for we may have but little time left. As you reeve, make knots, so as to leave a some- what loose line over the top of each door. These ropes over the tops of the door will do to hold to when the doors are loaded with human beings. As fast as the carpenter or one of his assist- ants showed signs of weariness some of these calm-eyed American men, who had been below at the pump took their places with the bits. In a very few moments the first chain of AND THE SMUGGLERS 133 shouted down over the water. “Captain Drew, I'll have to ask you to furnish six oarsmen from your crew, to work the gig." The sailors were quickly in place, going down over the side by the line up which Lieutenant Benson had climbed. They brought the gig around to the head of the raft, taking the tow- line aboard. Mate Crystal made fast another line for hauling the doors of the raft past the side gangway. “Don't fill that raft up with men!” begged one American passenger, crowding forward. “Lieutenant, don't you know that there are still women and children standing back there, mute and patient?” “Yes,” Benson nodded. "I'm thinking of their safety. If anything happens to this first raft I want to profit by experience and make the next ones more secure. Fall to lively, there. Bore, bore, bore! Reeve the ropes through! We want the next raft ready in half the time it took to make the first one." Hal now took his stand by the men who were fitting the rafts together out of stateroom and other doors. Jack had time to step to the rail, mopping his brow and letting the breeze blow on his face. As he stood there he saw the gig crawl out to the “Grant,” aboard which the line was made fast. 134 THE SUBMARINE BOYS waves. Ensign Eph Somers and a jackie on board the “Grant' had crawled astern over the uncer- tạin footing of the deck beyond the platform deck. There they received the line and made it fast. Once more the searchlight of the subma- rine played over the doomed “Cynthia. As soon as the first raft had been filled Jack himself waved the go ahead signal. Slowly the “Grant” pulled away, drawing after it the string of doors with men still cling- ing desperately. His heart in his mouth young Benson keenly watched the outcome. But none of the doors was overturned by the Though the crouching men were all drenched to the skin, they managed to hold on for their lives. “Another raft ready!” called a voice. “Clear the way and we'll drop it overboard." “Back for a few moments,” called Lieutenant Benson, turning and waving them away. “Here come two of the life boats, which have trans- ferred the women and children to the submarine. Bring the rest of the women and children for- ward. Let them pass down the side gangway to the boats as they come alongside. Some of you strong-armed men assist them down. But remember that any man who takes a seat in either boat will be shot by my men for his trouble!" AND THE SMUGGLERS 135 Several of the selfish males, who had crowded forward to aid the women and children down the gangway dropped back on hearing that. There were plenty of American men passengers, however, to volunteer, who would not be cow- ardly enough to try to steal prompt safety for themselves. The two returning lifeboats were speedily filled. But there was still a pathetic group of women left behind. All women who had chil- dren had finally passed to boats; those who had no children, and who had not yet left acted with as much courage as did any of the men. Jack watched until the lifeboats had pulled clear. “Now, tumble over that raft,” he called, “and get others ready as quickly as you can. Gun- ner's mate, see that there is no crowding or fighting. Remember what your men have rifles for!” By this time even those who would have stolen safety, had they dared, were wholly convinced that it would mean only swift death at the hands of these stern-eyed men of Uncle Sam's Navy. So they held back, waiting to be called when Lieutenant Jack Benson deemed that their turn had come. Overboard went the second raft. Men passed down swiftly, but in order, to take their places 136 THE SUBMARINE BOYS on the doors. The tow-line was thrown to the gig, which hovered nearby. This line was car- ried out and made fast to the rear end of the first raft. A third and fourth raft were quickly ready. Now all hands, even the most selfish and worth- less of the male self seekers aboard were work- ing with a will. At the addition of each raft to her string the “Grant" moved a little further away. “Lieutenant, you're doing magnificent work, murmured Captain Drew in Benson's ear. "It couldn't be better." “We've got the last of the women and chil- dren off any way, sir,” Lieutenant Jack replied. “It has been a fearful night for me.' “I can believe that well enough, sir." “I've been proud of my fellow Englishmen,” continued Captain Drew. “They've behaved like men, everyone of them." "I trust, sir, you can say as much for your American men passengers. “I didn't think it necessary to speak of the grit of the Americans aboard,” replied the Eng- lishman simply. “In our country we take the invariable grit of an American for granted." While the fifth raft was being filled the “Cyn- thia's" deck began suddenly to slope forward at an alarming degree of pitch. AND THE SMUGGLERS 137 "She's sinking by the bow!" went up the frenzied shout in many tongues. Then, seemingly losing all control of them- selves the more cowardly ones rushed the little group of jackies. “Shoot fast, if you have to men!” shouted Lieutenant Benson. For only another moment did the frenzied crowd seem defiant. Then, slowly, they gave back. “That's all right for you, Lieutenant!” rose a voice. “At the last moment you'll save your skin and leave a lot of us to go to the bottom!" “The scoundrel who says that lies!” flashed Lieutenant Jack Benson. “I have already promised to save myself last.' CHAPTER XIII A GLORIOUS BIT OF WORK T" HE forward settling of the “Cynthia” continued alarmingly. “Don't you think, Lieutenant, we'd better throw the remaining doors overboard without roping and pass the call, ‘Every man for himself'?' “No, sir,” the submarine boy answered promptly. 140 THE SUBMARINE BOYS > daze. True to his promise Jack passed by him at the foot, stepping to a door. ‘Come, now, Captain!” he insisted sharply. “Your promise! Don't put others in peril. Captain Drew obeyed, stepping on to a door, sinking to his knees and gripping at a line. Jack was beside him, keeping a sharp lookout that this man did not yield to the impulse to roll overboard and go down with his doomed ship. The signal was passed ahead, and the “Grant” pulled onward. It was fearfully slow work, for the “Grant” was towing a drag for which she had never been intended. While they were getting away the gig moved to a point in the line of rafts, taking off eight women-all the added passengers that the light gig could hold with safety. “There she goes!” cried a voice. A babel in- stantly arose. By this time the hindmost end of the chain of rafts was some five hundred feet from the wreck. With a great sob Captain Drew turned for a last look at his ship. Jack Benson watched him, hawk like. The “Cynthia's” bow went under, though her raising stern was still afloat. How that wreck seemed to hesitate about tak- ing the final plunge to Davy Jones's locker! Captain Drew was sobbing broken-heartedly. “Come, Now, Captain!” Jack Insisted Sharply. 141 AND THE SMUGGLERS 143 “It's tough, sir,” Jack murmured, sympa- thetically in his ear. “But your record is clear, sir. You haven't left a soul aboard!” “Except the three who were shot for rushing the boats," quavered the Englishman. “I don't believe such fellows as they ever had souls!” Jack Benson retorted bluntly. “Any man may be scared, but no man has a right to make a despicable coward of himself just because he's scared.” Higher rose the stern of the steamship as the big hull settled slowly forward. Rudder and propellers were now entirely out of the water. “Let me drop overboard and go down at the same time," murmured Captain Drew brokenly. "Don't try to stop me." “Get on the other side of him and watch," muttered Benson to one of his jack tars. With a grim smile the naval seaman passed behind the Englishman, produced a short length of rope and with it lashed Captain Drew's right foot fast to the door. That would hold him where he was until ready hands could interfere with any mistaken attempt at suicide. It was well toward daybreak when Jack had stepped to the raft ahead of Captain Drew; shortly after they had drifted away from the doomed ship the “Cynthia” plunged on her final dive and went below the surface of the waters. AND THE SMUGGLERS 145 > “How many did you rescue from the 'Cyn- thia'q' the cruiser wanted to know. “All passengers, officers and crew, except three men shot down for trying to rush life- boats ahead of women and children,' flashed Somers's answer. "All saved ?' “Yes, sir.” “Grand work! The Navy has a right to be proud of you youngsters !" came the congratu- latory message, this time signed by Commander Breen. After a pause the scout cruiser sent this query : “Is the 'Cynthia' afloat yet?” “No; sank just before dawn this morning. “What time did you reach her?” "About one o'clock." “Grand work!” came again from Commander Breen. “Thank you, sir," Eph's wireless man sent back. “Are you in distress?” “No; but we can't keep up more than head- way. Many passengers and others are on rafts that we're towing. Don't care how soon you overtake us." “Coming, with all speed," flashed the “Wya- noke." 9 -7 Submarine Boys. AND THE SMUGGLERS 147 CHAPTER XIV WINNING THE PRESIDENT'S THANKS T HOUGH all possible ventilation had been provided, it was still suffocatingly hot in the “Grant's" small cabin. Little wonder, for more than seventy women and children were packed in there. There were seats for hardly more than half of these rescued passengers. As soon as possible Ensign Eph escaped to the conning tower, where there was an abund- ance of fresh air. At five minutes past six the foremast of the approaching scout cruiser was sighted from the “Grant." 'Twenty minutes later the cruiser, coming on under full steam, was plainly visible to the hun- dreds who eagerly awaited her coming. Nor was it long after when the “Wyanoke,” with shrill blasts from her whistle, came close and lay to on the now quiet sea. Eight boats, finely manned by jackies, were at once lowered, and the work of transferring the rescued ones from the rafts in tow of the “Grant'? rapidly proceeded. The “Cynthia’s” remaining life boats at once 148 THE SUBMARINE BOYS rowed to the cruiser. When, the last passenger had been taken from the rafts, and these doors cut apart and cast loose, two life boats went over to the submarine and took off the women and children there. All were finally landed on the “Wyanoke" without mishap. Jack and Hal, with their enlisted men, were also taken back to the “Grant” as soon as the passengers had departed. The gig was being hoisted into place when a seaman standing on the bridge of the “Wyanoke" signaled: “Commander Breen's compliments. Break- fast is ready. Will Mr. Benson join Com- mander Breen?” “There's nothing to do but obey,” laughed Jack, as he read the message. So he stepped into the gig and was rowed over to the scout cruiser. As soon as he had gone on board the gig returned to the “Grant,” next being hoisted and lashed into place. Commander Breen had also invited Captain Drew to join him at breakfast. “There's Benson, the brick of our Navy!" shouted one American man, as soon as he espied Jack on deck. "Three cheers for him, and a string of rousing tigers!”' Laughing, yet flushing too, Jack fairly fled to Commander Breen's quarters. AND THE SMUGGLERS 149 Captain Drew, though present at the meal could eat but little. At times he talked rapidly, at others he appeared all but tongue-tied. Every now and then tears glistened in his eyes. Both the scout cruiser and the submarine were now forging ahead once more. For the present their courses would lie together, though pres- ently the “Wyanoke” would take a more north- erly course for New York City. “I have heard much of you, Mr. Benson,” said Commander Breen, after the meal had be- gun. “I have always wished to meet you, and now my first chance has been on a day when you have performed a wonderful piece of work on the ocean. “I hope you won't continue to think it won- derful,” smiled Jack. After that the conversation was almost wholly with Captain Drew. Both the elder and the younger naval officers tried to cheer up the old sailing master, but this they found a difficult matter. They learned, however, that Captain Drew did not intend seeking the command of another ship. He had money enough saved, and intended to return to England and there live quietly, the sea, henceforth, to be but a memory to him. When breakfast was over, an hour later, Jack Benson did not linger. It was time for the two 150 THE SUBMARINE BOYS craft to part company. The “Wyanoke" now signaled the “Grant” and both craft lay to while the gig rode the waves and came along- side for the young lieutenant. “Good boy!” “Fine fellow !" “He did wonderful work for us last night.” “We'll never forget Lieutenant Benson." These were only a few of the comments that Jack heard as, with lifted cap, he passed through the throngs of the rescued on the scout cruiser's deck and made his way to the side gangway. “Now, then,” proposed a hearty voice, "cheer Lieutenant Benson out of sight! We owe our lives to him, his officers and his men. Let loose -everybody!” This came just as the coxswain had given or- ders to pull away. The tumult that followed was deafening. Women's voices could be heard with those of the men. Children joined in. All along the rail of the cruiser's spar deck hand- kerchiefs were fluttering-handkerchiefs that, not many hours before, had been drenched with the tears of hopeless terror. As the gig was hauled up in place and lashed the powerful steam whistle of the “Wyanoke" started a new tumult. “Mr. Hastings, see that our colors are dipped AND THE SMUGGLERS 151 at once in acknowledgment,” Jack ordered. “Then ahead at full speed for Boxhaven.” Jack vanished down the stairs leading from the conning tower. He enjoyed doing his duty; the more perilous the duty, the better he liked it. But being tossed up in a blanket of approval and praise did not please him. “Why didn't you stay on deck?” questioned Eph Somers, who had followed him below. “You should have waved your hat for the next ten minutes. The people you rescued last night know a hero when they see one, and you've cheated them out of a lot of enjoyment by run- ning away.” "The word 'hero,'” muttered Lieutenant Benson, "is one that should be erased from the service dictionary. No officer or man in the Army or Navy has any right to be a hero. Whenever a service man has any duty to per- form he should put it through to the very best of his ability, and should side-step at the taunt of being a hero. Mr. Somers, you're just about down and out.” “Oh, there's a lot of kick left in me yet,” Eph replied, with a grin. “You will turn in for two hours," Jack di- rected, “I will take personal command. I shall also send Hal to his berth. You, Mr. Somers, will call Mr. Hastings to relieve you when you 152 THE SUBMARINE BOYS have been on duty two hours. That will give Hal four hours of sleep. He needs it, poor fel- low, for he wore himself out giving the rafts his personal attention, and speeding the work all he could. Jack, as soon as his own deck watch was over, tumbled into his berth. He fell asleep at once. Nor was Benson aroused until Eph Somers came in to report: “Sir, we are within about five miles of Box- haven Bay. Have you any orders, sir?” “If I have,” smiled Benson, “I'll go on deck and give them." It was shortly after three o'clock in the after- noon when the “Grant' returned to her former moorings. The gig was placed back in the water, ready for instant use. While this was being done a shore boat came out. The man in charge brought two telegrams. “One came before ten this morning, the other at eleven o'clock,' " said the messenger. “Any answer to go ashore?” The first envelope that the submarine boy opened bore the signature of the Secretary of the Navy. The sender stated that, by direction of the President, he begged to tender heartiest thanks and sincere congratulations to officers and men of the “Grant” for their splendid, work performed at the wreck of the “Cynthia." >> AND THE SMUGGLERS 153 “It was not the expectation of this Depart- ment,” the despatch ran on, “that you would be able to accomplish more than to take off a few score of women and children who would not otherwise be rescued. It was believed that the Commander of the “Wyanoke' would ac- complish the major part of the work if the *Cynthia’ should be fortunate enough to keep afloat a few hours longer than she actually did. The exploits of the officers and crew of the "Grant' will fill a bright page indeed in the more peaceful annals of the United States Navy. You have all merited and won the applause of the Nation." “Gunners' mate!" shouted Lieutenant Jack Benson lustily. “Pipe all hands on deck to listen to a communication." While the men were tumbling up Jack read the second telegram. His eyes flashed as he placed this second message in an inner pocket. Then he turned to face all hands, reading aloud the communication of the Secretary of the Navy to the entire personnel of the submarine. “We are grateful to the Department, as well as to the President for this expression of esteem for us,” the young submarine commander went on, smilingly. “Still we who were on the spot know, better than anyone else can possibly know, that we merely performed a simple duty to the AND THE SMUGGLERS 157 “Do you have to save?” inquired Jack. “You, with wealthy parents and a good income outside of your government pay in the State Depart- ment?' “It's a bore to save," Ned confessed. “To me money seems made only to spend. But my father has been kicking at my expenses for some time, and has given me several lectures on the art of saving. There's a fellow named Jones in the State Department, who hasn't a cent in the world outside of his beggarly pay, yet some- how he always has money. In fact, I've found it convenient to borrow from him more than once. So, one day, Jones and I were chatting, and I told him about my father's peculiar no- tion that I ought to save money. Odd, but Jones didn't think my father's idea was any- thing very peculiar." “I'm surprised at Jones's lack of sense,” murmured Ensign Eph. “Oh, Jones is quite a bright fellow, in a lot of ways,” Ned went on genially. “He even said that he thought my father was right, and that I ought to go in for saving. He told me that I needn't start with very heavy saving. I told him that was cheering. Jones said that sometimes pretty big results came out of small beginnings, and I assured him that I could see the truth of that in a general way. Then he 29 158 THE SUBMARINE BOYS asked me if I would be willing to make a start by saving pennies. I told him that that didn't seem very difficult as I always hated to have them in my pockets. Then Jones outlined the scheme, and it was a dandy in its way, though I don't know that the outcome will be very big. Producing a key, White opened his bank by taking off the top, allowing the submarine boys to look inside. “Really, fellows,” he said. “I'm beginning to get just a bit fascinated with the idea, I'll ad- mit. Quite a tidy sum already. What?” As the bank circulated from hand to hand the submarine boys discovered that it contained, be- sides a pleasing amount in small change, several bank notes.'' "What's the scheme?” asked Lieutenant Jack. “How do you work it?" "This was the idea Jones outlined to me,' Ned White went on. "The first week I was to put a penny in the bank, the second week two cents, the third week four cents, the fourth week eight cents, and so on. Do you catch the idea ? Each week I put in double what I did the week before. In other words I double the bet every week.” “How long do you keep this up?" asked Hal, who possessed an excellent head for mathemat- ics. AND THE SMUGGLERS 159 “For six months—twenty-six weeks," Ned answered. “At the end of twenty-six weeks, then, put- ting by money on that plan, you'll have quite a tidy sum,” Hal suggested. “Very tidy, I expect,” White agreed. “When I get it all saved I'm going to convert the money into a draft and send it to my father as a little gift. He'll be pleased to see that I really am saving money, even if only in a small way." “How long have you been saving on this plan?” Jack asked. “I put in the money for the fifteenth week yesterday," Ned replied. “It has only eleven weeks more to run. “And how much money do you expect to have saved when the twenty-six weeks are ended ?” Hal pursued. “Oh, I haven't the least idea," Ned admitted. “I never was any good at arithmetic. Eleven weeks more won't be long to wait, and then I'll count up what I've saved." "It will be the last few weeks of the game that will draw hardest on you,” Hastings sug- gested, as he reached for paper and pencil. “I expect so," White assented. Ensign Hal began to figure. At last he had the sum calculated. “Unless your father is a very rich man,” Hal 162 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “That's right!” growled Ned. "Laugh at me. Enjoy me as one of the prize idiots of the United States. But-oh, you Jonesy! Just wait until I get back to Washington and be- hold your smirking face! What won't I do to you? I'll apply for a whole month's leave, and spend all that extra time in trying to think up picturesque ways of putting it all over Jones for making such a fool of me!” “And then, when you get back to Washing- ton," chuckled Ensign Eph, "you'll raise a goodly sum of money and hand it all over to one Jones as a bribe to keep him from telling every- one else in the State Department about your savings.' “It'll be too late," muttered White, opening his eyes still wider. “That miserable Jones has doubtless told everyone in the Department al- ready. And—and, for that matter, I told a few myself before I came away. Oh! oh! oh! Now, as you fellows won't do anything for me I shall have to do it for myself.” Rising and crossing the wardroom Ned bumped his head, repeatedly—though with some caution—against the steel wall. Returning, Ned bent over the bank, transfer- ring all of his recent savings to his pockets. “Want to come up on deck and see me throw this beastly bank overboard?” he demanded. AND THE SMUGGLERS 163 All three shook their heads. "Tell you what we'll do," Ned White con- tinued. “We'll go on shore this evening and spend all this trash that has accumulated so far." “We won't even think of it,” retorted Jack. “Mr. White, do go right on with your savings. Keep it up for the full twenty-six weeks, or as long as you can go on. It will teach you a lot about the value of hoarding money." Ned's only reply was a snort as he hurried to the deck, where he hurled his now empty bank as far as he could throw it. “No more little kid tricks for me!" White declared, as he re-entered the wardroom. “It strikes me that the game you've just abandoned was a full-sized man's performance," Ensign Eph chuckled. “Please don't say any more," urged Ned miserably. “If you do I'm afraid I'll forget my place as a guest, and-But, oh! Just wait until I get my hands on that fellow, Jones!” Jack Benson shot a warning glance at Eph Somers. After that Ned was teased no more about his get-rich-quickly scheme. Dinner went off pleasantly that evening. Later Jack drew Hal aside and led him up to the deck. “I want you to stay here," Jack explained, 164 THE SUBMARINE BOYS "and keep the sharpest lookout every second of the time. You see the masthead light on the "Velvet'? If that light should be hauled down, or if she moves out of the bay under it I want you to let me know instantly." “I understand,” Hal nodded. “The rest of us may come up on deck, and probably will," Benson continued. “But if we do you are on watch just the same, though you do not need to let anyone else see it." Half an hour later all of the ward-room crowd occupied chairs under the little awning. Though Hal joined them he seated himself so that not once was his face turned away from the “Velvet.'' “When are you going out to sea, or under the sea, or to do something picturesque?” Ned asked Jack. “It's really hard to say,'' Benson replied. "Then you don't know, at present, what you're going to do?" "If I did know it would be highly improper for me to tell anyone else." “Oh, I beg your pardon," Ned went on hur- riedly. “But if I happen to be on shore when you start seaward, can you notify me so that I can get out here?" “Certainly, if there be time enough left to send and get you." 22 168 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “Helmsman,” said the young submarine com- mander, "you may tell our guest by what you are steering.” “At present, sir,” answered the sailor at the wheel, without turning around, “we are steer- ing by that star near the western horizon." The sailor was seaman enough to know that the “star” was the masthead light of a small craft, but Ned wasn't. The light, in fact, was the white masthead light of the “Velvet,” her green and red sidelights not showing from astern. “It's a queer sensation, riding like this," Ned muttered, after a few moments. “It's stuffy in here, too, but I don't feel like opening a win- dow." “It would be bad judgment,” Jack smiled. “The Atlantic would rush in on us.' Ned soon wandered below. To one not in the secret of the chase it was dull sport to stand long in the wheel-house, whence nothing could be seen but a wide waste of waters and a few stars, including the false one over by the western horizon. So he went into the cabin below, and presently into the wardroom to read. He felt certain that, if anything "picturesque” hap- pened, Jack Benson would send him word in time to witness it. For more than two hours Ned remained be- AND THE SMUGGLERS 169 low. Then, finding himself yawning, he deter- mined to go up into the conning tower once more. But a seaman stopped him near the foot of the steps. “No passengers permitted in the tower at present, sir, by Lieutenant Benson's orders." “What's up?" demanded Ned, with lively in- terest. “I don't know, sir." “Are we doing anything unusual ?" “I think not, sir." “Why, the speed is stopped!” cried Ned, in sudden discovery. “Yes, sir, for some little time." "Is anything wrong with the engines ?” Ned White demanded, rather anxiously. “No, sir. The engines will start promptly whenever the order is given. “Is it against orders for me to remain in the general cabin?” Ned further asked. “No, sir. The only orders relate to going up into the conning tower—the turret-sir.” So young Mr. White plumped himself down on a cabin seat, a prey to lively curiosity. In the meantime, Lieutenant Jack Benson had followed the schooner for more than twelve miles out to sea, yet always keeping a full two miles to the rear of her. 170 THE SUBMARINE BOYS At last the schooner layed to. So the "Grant's" speed was also stopped. At times one or the other, or both of the schooner's side- lights showed. That was why Benson did not want the boat's guest up in the conning tower. It wouldn't have taken Ned long to conclude that the submarine's business was to keep track of the vessel that displayed sidelights. At the moment of starting to lay to, the sea- man at the wheel was ordered below. The three young submarine officers remained in the tower, all of them watching the schooner, with such aid as they could derive from the use of their night glasses. “Waiting for some other vessel, as sure as guns !” Jack commented, as he watched the id- ling schooner. “She'll have a fairly long wait, too, for there isn't another light in sight," Eph muttered. “Odd how lonely the ocean looks at times." From time to time the “Grant's" engines were stirred long enough to enable the subma- rine craft to turn slowly around. Lying there semi-submerged, without lights was risky busi- ness, and the sharpest watch had to be kept to see that they did not suddenly find themselves under some other vessel's bows with danger to both. Moreover, Benson did not propose to allow AND THE SMUGGLERS 171 any other vessel to get close enough to make out the submarine's conning tower. The fact would be sure to be reported, and the report might even reach the eyes or ears of the skipper of the “Velvet.' Time dragged by. Ned stretched himself on one of the long cabin seats and was soon sound asleep. “The schooner ought to be putting back soon," commented Hal, when his watch showed the time to be half-past two in the morning. “It will soon be dawn and surely smugglers wouldn't take the chance of transferring a cargo in broad daylight." Five minutes after Hal had spoken the words all three of the young officers made out the fact that the schooner had hauled in on her sheets and was standing back toward the coast. "Watch below," Jack called down. 'Aye, aye, sir." “Has Mr. White turned in?" “He's asleep on a cabin seat, sir." "Then present my compliments and tell him that if he will hurry up here he will see some- thing worth while." “Aye, aye, sir." Hal, in the meantime, had signaled the engine room and the “Grant” was now turning around. Though Ned hurried, yet by the time he stood 174 THE SUBMARINE BOYS "No-but honestly!" Fifteen minutes later the “Grant's" floor be- gan to slope sternward. “Are we going up?" asked Ned. “Yes; just to take an observation. Then we'll undoubtedly drop again." “May I go up in the tower, now?" Jack didn't really want his guest up there, as he didn't want Ned to have any chance of guess- ing what this trip was really for, so he replied: “Wait until we make our final rise. Then go up with me." “Oh, all right.” Within thirty seconds after she had projected her turret conning tower slightly above the waves the “Grant” made another gradual dive, again running at ninety feet under water. This rise had been taken in order to ascer- tain if the schooner was still headed shoreward. From the fact that no report was made to him young Lieutenant Benson knew knew that the schooner was still on the same course, so he re- mained chatting with his guest. At first Jack had curiously watched his guest's face, to see whether young White was alarmed to find himself beneath the surface. Ned had been a bit nervous, but had shown no cowardice during the dive, as had so many curious landlubbers. It is not every man who AND THE SMUGGLERS 175 can remain calm on a submarine when she is going down. Twice more the boat rose, Ned curiously watching, with Jack, what he could see of the mechanism of reaching the surface through ex- pelling the water from the diving tanks by means of compressed air. “I wouldn't have missed this night for any- thing,” young White declared enthusiastically, after the third rise and dive. “When we rise again,” Jack replied, “We shall stay on the surface until we enter Box- haven Bay." Presently the watch below came to report that the commanding officer was desired in the tower. “Come along, now,” invited Jack, resting a hand on his friend's arm. As they entered the tower the light there was brilliant. Jack placed his hand on one of the levers, next commanding: “Switch off the lights. Now, White, look for the most rapid rush to the surface that we have had to-night.” As blackness came over the scene Ned felt the floor tipping at such an angle that he clutched at Eph Somers. With a quick rush the top of the tower shot above the waves. Then the platform came out 176 THE SUBMARINE BOYS of the water, next the forward deck emerged, water sliding off. “Come out on deck,” was Jack's invitation, as he threw open the entrance. “My but it seems good to be out in the open again!” breathed Ned White. “Still I want to be with you when you do some deeper diving. This sort of life would soon fascinate me more than anything else in the world." Jack's first unobserved glance had told him that the schooner "Velvet" was some four miles astern. She had been well distanced on the run in. Now the “Grant’s” speed was increased, though the submarine still refrained from show- ing lights. It was almost daylight when they entered the bay, but Benson could see no one stirring on shore. The submarine glided in to her moor- ings, and lay there as though she had been at the same spot all night. “I'm going to take a nap now, in earnest," gaped Ned White, starting below. 178 THE SUBMARINE BOYS with Hal. The young man from the State De- partment did not care about going ashore. He was enjoying the sea breeze that blew in under the awning On shore the submarine boys parted company. Eph went to the nearest drug store, where he surrounded five ice cream sodas and vanquished them. Then he started to find his road, one that turned up by the Hotel Belleair and stretched off toward a green forest in the distance. Just as Eph went by the rear portion of the hotel he was espied by no less a personage than Wally Wimpins, the would-be young actor whom Eph had floored in the Arlington in Washing- ton. Wally had a summer engagement here at Box- haven, though one that had no connection with the stage. Wally had arrived two days before to serve as a waiter at the Belleair. There wasn't much glory in being a waiter, but Wally had reasoned that there was at least a living in it, and that the tips from guests ought to salve his wounded feelings. To-day he was to have his first afternoon off, and had already dressed for it. When he spied Somers the new waiter's eyes opened very wide. “That's he!” cried Wally. “I couldn't mis- take him anywhere. That's the same kid with AND THE SMUGGLERS 179 sunburst hair that treated me to the wallop in Washington. I'd like to wait on him for just one meal! But he's going by, and I have three hours of my own time this afternoon. I'll fol- low Sunburst Hair and see if there's any safe and easy way of handing him back the wallop that he loaned me." Giving Eph time to get a little more of a start, Wally followed carefully, his mind bent wholly on thoughts of vengeance. Wally, like many of his weak-minded kind, imagined himself a des- perate man, whom it was highly dangerous to offend. “If I get that kid where I want him this afternoon,” Wimpins told himself fiercely, “I'll make him sing mighty low for once. If I can only get him down and make him beg for mercy! Then I'll read Sunburst a little lecture on keeping his fists to himself.” There were sheltering walls and little stretches of groves that ran near the road.. Wally had very little trouble in following his intended prey, and took but a moderate chance of being discovered. Passing through one of the groves, which bor- dered on a wagon road, Wally Wimpins's heart gave a sudden leap of joy. Lying in the path before him lay a heavy three foot stake. "This thing will place us on an equal foot- 180 THE SUBMARINE BOYS ing!” gloated the simpleton, pouncing upon his prize. “My, but it's stout and hard. I'll get in front of Sunburst with this and tell him what a royal thumping he is about to receive. I can see him turn pale. I can see his lower jaw drop. These bullies are always cowards—I've read as much somewhere." Though the way across fields and through lit- tle stretches of woods made rough walking for Wally, whose feet were already tired from standing still behind the chairs of Belleair guests, Mr. Wimpins managed to hide his dis- comfort even from himself. His whole being was actuated by the hunger for vengeance. He could think of nothing else. “One swift, hard thump with this fine old piece of wood,” Wally told himself, “and then I can stand over him while he crouches at my feet. Oh, little does he imagine who is on his trail this afternoon!" Though the simpleton could not comprehend the fact, Eph Somers, in truth, would have been but very little disturbed had he known just who was pursuing him, and why. At last the lonely road began to wind through a stretch of forest. Eph walked on, Wally now limping though keeping manfully to his self- appointed task of revenge. At last, however, Mr. Wimpins felt that he AND THE SMUGGLERS 181 could go no further, if he was to save enough of his feet to get back to Boxhaven. "He'll come back this way, anyway,” thought Wally, sinking to the grass near the road. “And when he does come-oh, won't I hand it to him.” As for Ensign Eph, that young officer kept on for some distance further. Finally, how- ever, his watch informed him that it was time to turn back from the most delightful walk he had had in many a day. Here in the woods, where no one would meet him, or know the submarine boy even if a meet- ing did take place, Eph had his coat off and on his arm, while he fanned his perspiring face with his straw hat. Wally, with his ear close to the ground, heard the tramp of the returning pedestrian. He rose to his knees, peering eagerly. “It's Sunburst, all right!” glowed Wimpins. “Now, I'll hide behind that tree. As Sunburst passes me I'll land one on his pate that would have been worthy of good old Robin Hood him- self. Ha! Tremble, caitiff, for thy doom is in- deed near! There does not live the man who may affront Mr. Wallace Wimpins and trust to go unscathed!” Eph came along, at a swinging walk, unaware that there was another human being within a 182 THE SUBMARINE BOYS mile of him. The broad oak tree's trunk wholly concealed the vengeful Wimpins. Whistling softly, young Ensign Somers strolled by the tree. Wally slipped quietly around the trunk, to avoid chance of being seen. Then, with the soft tread of a stage villain whom he had often admired, Wimpins stole up behind the unsuspecting submarine boy, the stake up- lifted. Some slight sound must have caught Eph's ear, for he started to turn. Not a second was to be lost if Wimpins was to be sure of his re- venge. Whack! Down came the club on Eph's hat- less cranium. Wally struck somewhat harder than he had intended. Naturally Eph fell to the ground. As he did so he rolled over on his back in order to get an instant glance at whatever had collided with him. Wally bounded a step forward, then placed one foot on Eph's chest. “Ha, varlet! Now we change places!” he cried shrilly, brandishing the club menacingly. “I'm quite willing to change places,” grunted young Somers. “You shall lie here in the road and I'll take that piece of kindling wood and jab you one for luck." “Silence, dog!" hissed Wally. AND THE SMUGGLERS 183 “Dog, am I?" demanded Eph. “Then whose pup are you?” “Darest thou insult me?" quivered Wimpins. “Then indeed shalt thou rue this day!” That Eph Somers didn't at once push aside the foot and leap to his feet, ready to avenge the blow that had laid him low, was due solely to the swift belief that came to him. That be- lief was to the effect that he was dealing with an escaped lunatic. Ensign Somers wasn't of the sort to deal roughly with a lunatic. He de- cided upon a conversational method of sooth- ing this violent young spindling. “Is this your usual way of greeting friends on the road?” Eph inquired mildly. “Friends?” demanded Wally scornfully. “No, fool! This is the way I meet mine ene- mies and strike terror to their hearts. In me behold a man who can wait patiently for years for vengeance. In me behold one who, when wronged, worships devoutly at the shrine of sweet vengeance!” “Clean daffy!" was Eph's inward comment. “I don't believe I ever met anyone before so wholly dippy as this chap is." Then he asked: “You speak of me as an enemy. How do you know I am? I can't remember that I ever be- fore had the pleasure of meeting you.” AND THE SMUGGLERS 185 Now was Wally Wimpins assailed with sud- den terror. This valiant youth no longer yearned for combat. He must act in self protection, so he swung his stake. This time he brought it down on Eph's head with greater force. Ensign Somers fell back in grim silence. The stake had done its work. He lay on his side in the road, neither moving nor offering to speak. Wally bent over him in terror, all the bravado oozing swiftly out of him. “Ah, woe the day for me!" wailed Wimpins. “I have killed him!” Then he turned and fled, like all cowards, leaving in the middle of the road this victim of his fantastic ideas of vengeance. “They'll arrest m-m-m-me, if they C-C-c-catch me near here,” shrieked Wally Wimpins, as he dashed wildly into the woods. 186 THE SUBMARINE BOYS CHAPTER XVIII JAKE SEES A “REALLY” SPECTRE T HREE young men sat about the ward- room table on the “Grant." Two of them were in uniform, the third, their guest, Ned White. It was six o'clock. The ward-room steward stood behind Lieutenant Benson's chair, await- ing the order to serve. “We'll wait dinner a few minutes longer," Jack proposed. “What can be keeping Eph?” wondered Hal Hastings anxiously. “Any one of a dozen or a score of inconse- quential things,” returned Ned White lightly. “Why are you fellows so uneasy?" “You don't know all about the ways of the service,” smiled Jack. “Punctuality is one of the first lessons of this life. And Mr. Somers is always so punctual that you could set your watch by his return." “So I see,” scoffed Ned, who, not being in the least worried, was fully prepared to do justice to his appetite. At last, when Jack found the time to be 6.15 he turned to the waiter to say: AND THE SMUGGLERS 187 “Pass the word to the gunner's mate to re- call the gig from the shore. The boat's crew will want their supper. When you have passed the word then you may begin to serve us. By seven o'clock the meal was finished, but Eph was still missing. “I can't stand this much longer," confessed Jack Benson, rising from table. “Waiter, find out if the boat's crew have finished their meal." “Yes, sir," reported the waiter, coming back. “Then pass word to the gunner's mate that I shall want the gig at once.” “Very good, sir. And, beg pardon, sir." “Well?" “It has begun to rain, sir.” “Thank you. I will get my rain clothes." Though his own rain clothes were in his cabin Lieutenant Jack came out with the set he had borrowed from Ned White. “Oh, these are yours, Mr. White. I had meant to return them earlier,” Jack declared. “Put 'em on for to-night,” begged White. “Don't go back for your own." So Jack donned the long rubber coat and the sou'wester. “And I believe I'll go with you,” yawned Ned, rising from the table. “Then I'll get out of your clothes,” smiled Lieutenant Jack. 188 THE SUBMARINE BOYS 99 “Don't do anything of the sort, my dear fel- low. Just lend me yours. They'll fit.” This exchange was therefore made. The two stepped into the gig as it was brought alongside. Once on shore Ned suggested: “Suppose we go to the Hotel Belleair first. Somers may be dining there." Jack shook his head. “If not, and if something has happened to Somers," Ned continued, “the hotel will be the most likely place to have the news.” So they turned in at the hotel and spent some little time there making inquiries. There was no word, however, to be had of Eph. Wally heard of the inquiry made. He had returned to the hotel as being the safest place for him. He was pallid faced, quaking and ready to scream from terror. When he heard that Somers was being sought, and heard the description, too, Wally watched his chance to flee to a shed in the hotel steward's depart- ment. There Wally Wimpins crouched in the dark, starting at every sound. “Strange we don't get any word of Somers here," murmured Ned. “I'm going further," Jack declared, looking genuinely worried at last. “You might stay here, White, and telephone as you think best. I'm going through the village a bit.” AND THE SMUGGLERS 189 For within the last few minutes a very grue- some suggestion had been growing in the sub- marine boy's mind. He began to believe that Eph, trying to do some sleuthing on his own ac- count against the smugglers, had fallen afoul of them. “And I believe Skipper Redbeard would kill a man in order to escape,” thought Jack darkly. So his reflections, as he hurried forth, were not altogether comfortable ones. It seemed unlikely that Eph Somers would come across a larger fight than he could handle —yet where was he? It was quite dark now, and the rain was fall- ing heavily. Almost unconsciously Benson's steps turned in the direction of the little pier where the schooner "Velvet" docked. Prudence being always strong in Jack, he ad- vanced cautiously now. It would be a betrayal of his mission from the Navy Department to expose himself in any way that might result in putting Skipper Redbeard and Jake on their guard. So, as he came in sight of the pier Jack Ben- son stepped behind a tree trunk determining to look over the scene before advancing. The white masthead light hung from the schooner's foremast head, but there was no sign of life aboard. 190 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “I wonder if the bull-dog is about again, and if he'll know me well enough to let me alone this time.” thought the submarine boy. For some minutes he peered intently. Pres- ently he forgot to take account of his surround- ings other than the pier. He was startled, there- fore, to hear steps approaching from behind. There was just time to slip behind the tree when two figures passed. “A nasty night,” he heard Jake say. “Yes,” vouchsafed the skipper, “but the darker it is the better for us. Dark nights for mine." "Then you Right then and there Jake closed his jaws with a snap. He walked faster, and strode out on the pier. “What are you in such a hurry for?" bawled Skipper Redbeard. But Jake neither replied nor halted, until he was almost down to the schooner's side. Then he wheeled, coming back, slowly. 6.What in blazes ails you?" growled Red- beard. “I saw it," gasped Jake, his eyes rolling. “Now, confound you for an idiot! What did you see?” demanded the skipper, hoarsely. “I saw it, I tell you!” Jake insisted, in quav- ering accents. AND THE SMUGGLERS 193 CHAPTER XIX WATCHING THE OCEAN PREY “B ENSON,” remonstrated Ned White, after they had boarded the “Grant," “I really don't see how you had the heart to do it.” “Do what?! “Why, order another practice trip to-night, when you're so uncertain about poor Somers." “I have to do it,” was Lieutenant Jack's low reply. “Orders from Washington?” “Yes,” Jack answered, and not untruthfully. “Oh, all right, then,” murmured White. “I suppose you naval fellows have to follow orders ahead of everything else.” “I don't suppose you could leave me behind, to hunt for Eph," whispered Ensign Hal Hast- ings. “Not properly,” Jack answered. “As it is we're putting to sea one officer shy, and to leave two on shore would be a highly unwise proced- ure. “Say, can't I get ashore yet?” asked Ned, ready to volunteer in the search for Eph Som- ers. 13 -7 Submarine Boys. 194 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “Yes; but you wouldn't know how to do any- thing that the landlord of the Belleair can't do,” Benson replied. “I suppose that's so," Ned admitted reluct- antly. As a matter of fact, Benson was now quite convinced that Eph had, in some way, run afoul of the smugglers. “If that's the case, and we can catch them to night,” Lieutenant Jack reflected, “that may be the quickest way of getting word of where poor Eph is, if he's still alive.' Hal touched Jack's arm, then looked seaward. On account of the rain the schooner's light would not be as plainly visible as it would be on a clearer night. “Mr. White, you and I will go below,” pro- posed Jack briskly. “The gig has been secured to the mooring, and we'll get under way now.” “Are you going to allow me to stand in the tower and watch the manoeuvre?” White in- quired innocently. “Not until later,” Jack replied. “You and I will go below.” The last thing above that the deck watch did was to cast the submarine off from her moor- ings. Then the conning tower was closed tightly and the start made with no light showing be- yond the submarine. >> AND THE SMUGGLERS 197 2 “I'm sure you would—but I hope you won't need it to-night.” “Oh, well, a fellow can't die more than once, can he?" muttered Ned, rising and walking about restlessly for a few moments. Then he laughed and sat down again. Jack joined in that laugh. “Don't mind, White,” he urged. “You've just been having a little touch of submarine- itis'-that's all.” “Did you ever have it?” “Sometimes, at first,” Jack confessed. “But it soon wears off. If you spent most of your time aboard a submarine craft, as we do, you'd soon begin to pity the folks in our large cities who are constantly risking death from being run down by street cars or automobiles. The only forms of death of which most men are afraid are those with which they happen to be unfamiliar. Have you ever seen folks afraid of a flash of lightning?” "Have I?" echoed Ned. “Yet did you ever see a telegraph operator, who works with electricity all day long, afraid of lightning? Did you ever see a veteran horse- man afraid of a fall that might break his neck? Have you ever known of a railroad engineer to be afraid to enter his car and start hauling an express train?" 198 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “I guess a fellow is a fool to be afraid of anything whatever," decided young Mr. White. “Fear doesn't sit very well on any human being," Jack Benson declared quietly. “I hope Somers has been located,” said Ned, to change what was becoming a disagreeable subject. “So do I," Jack answered gravely. “What do you think has happened to him?" “How can I guess ? But I won't attempt to guess. If we are at anchor to-morrow I shall put in the whole day looking for him, unless he has shown up before then. Of only one thing am I absolutely certain, and that is that some- thing has befallen Eph that prevented his re- turn, or he'd have been back on board by six this evening." “Mr. Hastings's compliments, sir, and he'd be glad of your company in the tower.” “Does that include me?" coaxed Ned, as Lieutenant Jack rose promptly. “I'm afraid it doesn't. But I'll take you into the tower as soon as I may properly do it." Then Benson quickly ascended the steps, standing beside his chum on the platform. “I thought you would want to know, sir," said Hal quietly, “that I have observed three skyward flashes from a searchlight over to the westward." AND THE SMUGGLERS 199 “Just what I do want to know," Jack admit- ted. “How long ago were the flashes ?” “Just before I sent for you. “Did the flashes follow in quick succession?" “Yes." 'Any more flashes since?" “No, sir.” “It must have been a signal," Jack mused. “I'll stay with you and watch if more come.' Ten minutes passed, during which the seaman at the wheel steered like an automaton. Over to the westward the “Velvet' was still under way, with all sail set. This the young officers could make out through their night glasses. “There go the flashes again!” cried Jack. “And they're more to the north-west than be- fore,” Hal added, in a low voice. “I'm counting them,” said Jack. "The flashes are in pairs this time. Now, they've stopped. Six in all—three pairs.' “And there's the schooner changing her course!" muttered Hal, in a tone of some excite- ment. “She's trimming more to the north’- ard." “Which shows that the schooner recognizes the signal as being meant for her,” Jack went on. “Of course," Hal Hastings agreed. AND THE SMUGGLERS 203 “Steady!” 'Steady it is, sir." “The schooner is laying to," Hal reported. “Her sails are flapping. Jack himself reached for the speed indicator, soon slowing the “Grant” down to mere head- way. “I changed the course," young Lieutenant Benson explained, “because I've an idea that the incoming craft with the searchlight will send out at least one more flash. Tbat will be when she picks up the schooner. At that time we don't want to be within range of the flash and have our turret seen." Hal spoke but little, now. He was swinging his night glass over a wide angle. “I think I see a steamship,” he announced at last. Jack Benson raised his own glass. “You're right,” he declared finally. "I can make out the big, black hull with considerable distinctness. There, she is turning northward, now.' “And the schooner is hauling in sheets and filling to follow," reported Seaman Corliss. "How soon are you going to run in and show yourself?” asked Hal, after some moments of silent work with the night glasses. “Just as soon as I'm sure of finding some of AND THE SMUGGLERS 205 as soon as we see any evidence of the cargo being transferred." The steamship's flashlight was not again seen. Plainly the captain knew that that brilliant beam could work two ways, by attracting to his own vessel and the schooner rather too much curi- osity on the part of vessels that might soon be passing. “Bring us up to the surface, Mr. Hastings!" directed Lieutenant Jack Benson, five minutes later. “I'm certain, now, that the steamship is passing cargo to the ‘Velvet.' The goods are going over the stern of the ship and the schooner's boat is picking them up.” As Hal Hastings rang the signal bell seamen below sprang up to execute the orders that would speedily follow on the indicator. CHAPTER XXI ACTION ALL IN A MINUTE! S ILENTLY the men on duty below worked at their stations. From the compart- ments enough water was expelled by com- pressed air to allow the “Grant” to rise and ride the waves. “Gunner's mate!” Lieutenant Jack called down the turret stairs. 210 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “I'll give you until I count three, and then prove that I dare shoot, and that I can shoot straight," Jack retorted coolly. “One, two- But the ship's officer was gone from the rail. The jackie kept on with his climb, however, going over the rail and unslinging his own rifle. "Throw that sailor overboard!” ordered the voice from the bridge. “The fellow that tries it won't have any too much fun," chuckled the naval seaman, cocking his weapon. It wasn't loaded, but the seaman was the only one on deck who knew that. Several men and women, evidently passen- gers, had started down on the port side of the promenade deck out of curiosity. “Better get back, ladies and gentlemen,” warned the sailor. “Maybe there's going to be trouble and shooting here." At this moment Lieutenant Benson climbed over the rope. He leaped to the deck, then turned to signal for more men to follow. As soon as he had three men on deck with him Benson left one on guard to stand by the rope. With the other two be strode forward to the wheel house. The door was locked. “Open this door!” Jack commanded. “It will not be opened to you!” thundered the man on the bridge. AND THE SMUGGLERS 211 “Are you the master of this ship?” Jack de- manded, glancing up at the bridge. "I am. “Then, sir, I can only inform you that you are making an unnecessary lot of trouble for yourself. This ship is hereby seized, in the name of the United States government, as a law- ful prize!” “You'll have to prove that yet!" raged the man on the bridge. Two more naval sailors came forward at this moment. “Go up on the bridge and place that fellow under arrest!" Benson commanded. The two sailors started up, readily. But the skipper met them, dealing one of the seamen a hard blow on the head that sent him rolling to the deck below. “Club him with your rifle!” shouted the young lieutenant angrily, for it enraged him to see one of his seaman struck down in the faith- ful discharge of his duty. Benson ran around on the other side of the wheel house, then darted up the steps to the bridge. Turning, the skipper came to meet him, but this left a naval seaman in his wake, who brought down the butt of a rifle over the mas- ter's head. Down on the bridge sprawled the skipper. He AND THE SMUGGLERS 215 ment. “I think I understand how this Captain Lafonte has been able, trip after trip, to run in and transfer smuggled goods without the least danger of being reported by one of his passen- gers. Ladies and gentlemen, the officers of this vessel have been relieved from duty. My jun- ior officer will take this vessel in to the Lower Bay of New York. You will look to Ensign Hastings as the master of this ship for the time it will take to complete her voyage.” Probably in the minds of the assembled pas- sengers there arose some wonder at the age of this boyish-looking young lieutenant. Prob- ably most of the beholders imagined Benson to be older than he looked, for he was supported by real United States sailors from a real enough submarine craft. There could be no doubt that he was genuinely a naval officer. “I assure you all,” Jack wound up, “that at need you will find Mr. Hastings a most compe- tent officer and a most courteous gentleman. I will now wish you good night.” With a graceful bow Benson left the cabin. Outside he called to the gunner's mate. Arrange to take our injured man back on the 'Grant,'” Jack ordered. “Then get over the side yourself.” Lieutenant Benson next went forward to the bridge. 216 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “Mr. Hastings, you will take this ship to Lower Bay, New York, and there turn her and your prisoners over to the proper revenue au- thorities, with this ship's papers, which I hand you now. It will be found that there is still some cargo aboard that is not down on the mani- fest—a good enough proof of smuggling. On completion of your duty you will wire me at Boxhaven. I advise you to keep strict guard and to tolerate no nonsense from officers or crew of this vessel.” “I shall be very careful, sir,” Hal answered. “Go ahead as soon as I signal you from the "Grant.'" “Very good, sir.' As Lieutenant Jack hurried to the port quar- ter to call the “Grant" closer, he met the young man from the State Department. “Hello!” hailed Jack pleasantly. “So you came with us?" "Of course I did," rejoined Ned White. “Why should I remain where none of the fun was happening?" “I'm glad you saw it,” Jack Benson replied heartily. “I was so busy that, really, I didn't have time to think of you.” “That was the way I figured it,” smiled Ned, " so I came on board anyway." “Up the rope?” AND THE SMUGGLERS 217 “Surely.” “I didn't know you had that accomplish- ment." “As a college man I've had the advantage of some gym. training,” Ned explained. “Can you get back by the rope?” “Oh, yes.” “Here's our injured man, sir,” said the gun- ner's mate, turning from the rail and saluting. “Can you go down a rope, Simms?” asked Benson, looking at the man keenly. “Yes, sir; I think so," replied the seaman groggily. “I am inclined to doubt it," Jack went on. "We shall do better to lower you." The same rope was at hand. Jack Benson signaled to the deck watch, and the “Grant” moved neatly in alongside. “We're hauling up the rope to lower a man who has been hurt,” the young lieutenant ex- plained. “Stand by to receive him." “Aye, aye, sir.' The rope was made fast under Seaman Simms's armpits. He was lowered, Jack, Ned and the gunner's mate holding to the rope. There was but one seaman on deck, as the only other left on board the submarine was at the wheel. “Go ahead, gunner's mate,' ordered Jack, as 218 THE SUBMARINE BOYS soon as the rope was free. We need you on the "Grant's' deck." So that petty officer let himself down by the rope. ‘After you,” Jack announced, smiling at White. “Do you want a net spread to catch you?” “I'll show you whether I do or not, you josher!” muttered White, in pretended anger. “Just watch me!" Grasping the doubled line young White went down very well until he was within four feet of the “Grant's” deck. Then, just as luck would have it, he lost his hold. Striking the sloping deck prostrate, White rolled down the slippery surface. But the gunner's mate, running forward from the turret, and with a surer footing, caught him by one arm. “No going overboard, sir, without the com- manding officer's permission,” remarked the mate dryly. Getting upon his feet Ned fled below. He didn't want to face further “joshing” from Lieutenant Jack Benson. That young officer, however, had more import- ant matters on his mind. Reaching the deck of his own craft he handed the line to the lone sea- man there, who hauled in and secured the rope. 220 THE SUBMARINE BOYS to join me on deck if he has nothing better to do. Helmsman, bring us around and keep in the wake of that schooner. Ring for extra speed." “I suppose you want to tell me what you think of my rope work,” murmured Ned, al- most shame-facedly, as he reached the platform deck. "No," Jack answered. “I had forgotten that. I wanted to ask you what you think of our night's work.” “Fine, if it doesn't get you into trouble." declared the young man from the State Depart- ment. “Trouble?” repeated Jack, feeling a bit dis- turbed. "What trouble can come to me from having done my duty?” “It's like this,” whispered Ned. “The own- ers of the ‘Bengo' are pretty sure to put up a big fuss, and a lot of admiralty lawyers may be found who'll question if you had sufficient ground for seizing that ship. The real fight will be in the courts." AND THE SMUGGLERS 221 CHAPTER XXII SKIPPER REDBEARD'S MANEUVRE NI ED WHITE, it will be remembered, had been trained as a lawyer. More than that, his further experience in the State Department at Washington had done much to put him in touch with the laws of the sea. No wonder Benson was disturbed, even if he did not betray the fact on the surface. “If I did anything irregular, what was it?” he asked. “That skipper had no right to refuse to let us board him.' “Not if you had any legal reason for going on board,” Ned admitted. “For that matter, whatever your reason in boarding him, any skip- per hat sails is bound to let a United States naval commander board him on the high seas. But, after that, comes the review of the courts as to whether the naval officer was justified.” “His ship was engaged in smuggling," Jack asserted stoutly. “Can you doubt that?” “No; but can you prove it?” “He was throwing cargo over the stern and the schooner was picking it up as it floated." “You can prove that, I suppose ?" Ned in- quired. AND THE SMUGGLERS 223 ready reported the hiding place of the cigars to the authorities at Washington." “Maybe you haven't put your foot in it at all," Ned White suggested hopefully. “I trust that you haven't." “I don't believe I have,” Jack replied. “I have tried to act in a legal manner, and if the Secretary of the Navy had been aboard to-night I don't believe he would have changed my or- ders." Jack hastily, briefly related the history of the matter to date. “Of course you've good sense on your side," Ned White admitted. “In my own mind there isn't a doubt that these fellows have been en- gaged in a deep-laid smuggling scheme, and you caught them red-handed. But the technicalities of the law are many and crafty, and these ras- cals may yet escape conviction. What you've got to do, Benson, is to look out, in the event of these rascals slipping through the court, that you are able to make out a good enough case of justifiable action on your own part. That will save you from censure." “Censure?” repeated Lieutenant Jack Ben- son, with a bitter laugh. “If these smugglers were acquitted, and the trial court expressed disapproval of my action, do you know what would be the result for me?' AND THE SMUGGLERS 225 Jack ordered the gunner's mate to fire a blank shot from the three-pounder. Not a sign came from the schooner of easing of sheets and com- ing to. “Give her a solid shot across her bow, gun- ner's mate," was Benson's next order. Bang! The solid shot struck up a little gey- ser of water barely a hundred yards ahead of the "Velvet's" bow. “Skipper Redbeard plainly doesn't mean to give up without a fight,” laughed Lieutenant Jack grimly. Nor did he know, at that moment, on just how much of a fight the skipper of the “Velvet" was resolved, CHAPTER XXIII ODDS OF NINE TO TWO! “H E isn't going to lay to," muttered Benson. “Shall I put a solid shot in her planks, sir?” asked the gunner's mate. “No, mate; I don't believe we would be justi- fied in that, as we can board that craft. We'll run alongside and jump aboard. White, I'm going to press you into service and take you -7 Submarine Boys. 226 THE SUBMARINE BOYS sea. along as prize crew, for I can't spare any of our seamen from the 'Grant.'" “Going to leave me alone aboard that schooner?” demanded Ned, becoming interested. “No; I shall be there with you. I'm going to make that skipper go back and pick up the part of the cargo that he left floating in the Then I'm going to make him take us into Boxhaven Bay.” “Quite a programme," nodded Ned White. "You're not armed, are you?” "No; why should I be?” “You'll have to be, as a member of a prize crew. Gunner's mate, a service revolver and box of cartridges for Mr. White." “Very good, sir.” Jack next gave the order to run in close to the "Velvet." Presently, with Jake at the wheel, Skipper Redbeard stepped to the rail. Stranger,” he bawled, “you'll have to sheer off. You're a power vessel, and you're not giv- ing this sailing craft all the sea room she needs." “That easy style of conversation won't wash your flag!” Jack called back grimly. “This is the United States Submarine 'Grant.' We de- sire to board you, and have fired two shots to bring you to. Will you lay to and stand back for us to board?" AND THE SMUGGLERS 231 “Aye, aye, sir.” The “Grant" started on her way. Redbeard, his arms folded, surveyed the young naval officer with a sullen glare. “What do you reckon you're doing on board this craft, young man?” the skipper demanded. "I have seized it in the name of the United States government,” Jack replied, as he walked past the skipper to the stern. “But we're Americans, and this isn't war time, either," jeered the skipper harshly. “You're seized on a charge of smuggling," Benson retorted. “Smuggling, to-night?” snarled the skipper. “Certainly.' “How can I have smuggled to-night, when I haven't been back anywhere within the three- mile line?" scoffed the schooner's master. “How about the other night?” Benson de- manded. “What other night?” “The time you brought in perhaps forty thou- sand Havana cigars.” “What do you know about that?” “The most that I know is what I overheard you saying to each other. Of course I also know where you took the cigars. Skipper Dave Hume looked a bit aghast over this thrust. 232 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “You missed a box of cigars, didn't you?” Benson went on coolly. “They're in Washing- ton now." Deck hand Jake Denham gave a gasp. “I reckon I know where my pistol went to now!” he muttered sullenly. “Yes; it's in the wardroom on the ‘Grant,' Benson laughed. “Shut up, you blithering idiot!" yelled Skip- per Hume, going toward the helmsman. “Let Jake talk, if he wants to,” teased Lieu- tenant Jack. "He isn't annoying me. “No; but he's" Hume checked his speech abruptly. “Go on," urged Benson dryly. “You go to blazes !" roared Dave Hume. “There is another direction in which I want to go first,” suggested the submarine boy. “Jake, bring her up in the wind. Put your wheel over hard-a-starboard." “Jake will do nothing of the sort, you uni- formed young jackanapes !" growled Skipper Hume. “You may think you command here, but you'll soon be satisfied if you're even a pas- senger." "We're going about, and pick up the rest of that drifting cargo, or as much as we can find of it,” Benson retorted sternly. "We" 234 THE SUBMARINE BOYS Revolvers appeared in every hand. Jack and Ned had drawn theirs also, but they were two against nine, with not even the lights of any other vessel in sight. “Put down your weapons, boys," advised Hume dryly. “The jig is up for you both if you don't. We happen to be the kind of men who don't propose to be taken. Put your weap- ons down, and drop into the hold forward. Then we'll drop the hatch over you and pad- lock it. If you do what I tell you, probably that will save your lives, but nothing else will. We don't propose to be taken." CHAPTER XXIV. CONCLUSION “N EITHER do we propose to surrender!" called Lieutenant Jack Benson coolly. “Jake, get away from that wheel!” As Denham didn't move fast enough Jack seized him, hurling him several feet away. “It doesn't make any difference if there are a hundred of you here, backed by a battery of artillery, the United States Navy is still in charge of this vessel. Go forward, everyone of you, but Jake, and climb down into that hold!" “You see us going, don't you?” leered Hume. AND THE SMUGGLERS 235 “Now, boy, put down your pistol, or you soon won't have any choice about what happens to you.' “Drop your own weapon, and put up your hands,” Benson commanded sternly, covering the skipper. “It's time to settle with him, men!” cried Hume, raising his own weapon. Hume's pistol spit fire, but so did Jack's, a second later. The skipper missed, then sank to the deck, for he had been hit. It was the third officer's turn next. Benson shot him down, then turned the weapon on an- other man. Ned White, not a whit behind, began firing, too. For a few moments the air was full of spiteful flashes of fire. Shot after shot was fired in the dark night. Five men of the smugglers were down when the other four, throwing their weapons over- board, threw up their hands, shouting their sur- render. “Are you men sure that you've had enough?” Lieutenant Jack demanded. “You bet we are!” replied one of the seamen from the “Bengo." “How about you, Jake Denham?” Benson asked, turning. “Whose orders are you going to take now?" 236 THE SUBMARINE BOYS “Yours," Jake agreed sullenly. “Ned, keep your eyes open, but go and pick up the pistols of men who've been hit," Jack directed. “Throw their weapons overboard.” This was quickly done, no one of the cowed lot now offering any opposition. “But you wouldn't do this if you hadn't hit me so hard,” growled Skipper Dave Hume. “And you wouldn't have been hit at all, if you had behaved yourself,” Jack retorted. “You uninjured men, who have surrendered, get to- gether and help these wounded men to the cabin. Look after them as well as you can. “Did you get hit?" asked Ned, in a low tone. Don't believe I have a scratch." “One bullet kissed my left hand,” White de- clared, holding up that member, around which he had wrapped a handkerchief. “That's too bad,” murmured Benson. “Too bad, eh? I'm tickled to death! Ben- son, I've actually sustained a wound while serv- ing as a volunteer in the Navy. My father will be proud of me when he hears about it.' “He'll have reason to be," Jack nodded. "You put up a good fight against odds." “That was easy enough,” scoffed Ned. “All I had to do was to follow your lead." Jake Denham, in the meantime, had brought the schooner back to her course. AND THE SMUGGLERS 237 By the time that the wounded men had been placed in the cabin the “Velvet” was in sight of several floating packing cases. "We can't stop to make too long a search, Jack explained. “But I want two or three of these cases as evidence." Accordingly, when near enough, the schoon- er's boat was lowered, the three remaining men from the “Bengo” comprising her crew. Three large packing cases were recovered and hoisted to the deck of the “Velvet." Each case proved to be covered with waterproof ma- terial so that the salt water could not injure its contents. “White, will you kindly mark these cases in such a way that you may afterwards be able to identify them?” Jack requested. Ned complied with the request. “Jake, you may keep the wheel until we are fairly started on our homeward course, son added. “Then I will give you a relief with one of these other husky chaps." “Not going to pick up any more cases, then?” White asked. “No; common humanity requires that we now get the wounded men as speedily as possible to a place where they may have surgical aid," re- plied the submarine boy. With a fresher wind springing up the “Vel " Ben- 238 THE SUBMARINE BOYS vet” made Boxhaven Bay in about two hours. Jack directed the schooner's course as close as was prudent to the “Grant,” now lying snug and secure at her moorings. “Deck watch ahoy!” Jack shouted. "Aye, aye, sir.” "Is the gunner's mate at hand?” “Here, sir," replied the mate, stepping out from the turret. "I am Lieutenant Benson." “I know your voice, sir.” “Mate, you will have to leave the engine-room force in charge of deck and all. Bring your two men ashore in the gig, and report, armed, at the 'Velvet's' pier.” “Very good, sir.” “Hurry!” “Aye, aye, sir.” Jake was at the wheel as the schooner gently approached her pier. With so many hands at the sheets Lieutenant Jack was able to make an unusually neat landing job of it. Nor had he been long at the dock when the gunner's mate and two seamen reported, armed with rifles. “Take charge of the deck, mate," Jack or- dered. “Let no one ashore or aboard without my order.' “Very good, sir." AND THE SMUGGLERS 239 “Say, you ought to let me go,” whined Jake Denham. “Think how I've worked for you to- night.” “I also remember that you fired on us in the mix-up,” Jack retorted dryly. “You're one of the principal prisoners, Jake. After your skip- per you're really it." Ned was hurried off up to the Hotel Belleair, to summon such medical aid as could be had. Jack, in the meantime, stretched his legs stroll- ing up and down the pier. Three country physicians responded to the call. When they arrived, one by one, Jack passed them on board. After the third physician had come Jack looked up in time to see five men hurrying on to the pier. “Halt!” cried one of the seamen from the “Grant,” throwing his rifle to port arms. “No admittance to this pier!” “Who commands there?" called one of the party, as the five halted. “Lieutenant Benson." “May I have a word with him?" demanded the speaker. Jack walked over to the group. “I reckon you'll be glad to see us, Lieuten- ant,” smiled the spokesman of the five. “We're Secret Service men.” 240 THE SUBMARINE BOYS He threw back his coat, the others doing like- wise. All wore the official badges of the Secret Service. "Any other credentials?” asked Lieutenant Jack cautiously. “Yes; this letter." By the aid of lighted matches Benson was able to read the letter. It was from Secretary Sanders and introduced the chief of this squad of Secret Service men. The leader's name was Watts. “I'm glad enough, indeed, to see you,” Jack greeted them, offering his hand. "Mr. Watts, are you authorized to relieve me, officially, of the outfit that I now find on my hands ?” “I'll take charge," nodded the Secret Service leader. “And I shall also be glad to have some- thing of a statement from you.' “I've been looking for you people all along,” Jack smiled. “You left Washington late, didn't you?" "We left Washington within two hours after the Department received your communication. We've had quite a few looks at your craft, Mr. Benson, from the shore." “Yet you didn't come out and introduce your- selves?" “We could work much better in the shade," laughed Watts. “We haven't been idle, though, AND THE SMUGGLERS 243 brother officer, Mr. Somers, and I forgot. The work here made me absent-minded." “I am going up to see Mr. Somers right away,” Jack declared. “You'd only be wasting your time,” Dr. Poole objected. “Mr. Somers hasn't a very clear head, and wouldn't recognize you." “Is he as badly off as that?” asked Benson, paling. “He has been seriously hurt, of course, but I have some hopes that Mr. Somers's head will be clear by to-morrow. In that case he will be up and around inside of a week,” the physician answered. “However, don't go to see him to- day. Put it off until I sanction your dropping in at your friend's bedside.' “Who is taking care of Somers, then?” “An excellent trained nurse, who happens to be summering here." So, though terribly anxious, Jack was forced to go about other duties than the care of his chum. When Watts took charge he had the uninjured prisoners removed to the county jail, while those of the smugglers who had been wounded were sent to the hospital attached to the jail. Jack withdrew his three men from the schooner, returning with them to the “Grant.” Half an hour after he went on board, Ned White, 246 THE SUBMARINE BOYS The smuggling along this part of the New Jersey coast was completely broken up. It was estimated, afterward, that the United States Government had been losing customs duties amounting to nearly a million and a half dollars per year. That, in other words, was about the amount saved to the national treasury by the clever work of Lieutenant Jack Benson and his junior officers on the submarine boat. It was ten days before Eph Somers was able to be up and about. By this time the “Grant" was at Newport, R. I., engaged on a real set of practice work there. On the twelfth day after having been struck Eph hired an automobile, with chauffeur, and was taken over to the county jail. He went there to see young Wimpins. When Wally was brought into the visitors' room, and saw who his caller was, he turned deathly pale, then tried to bolt. “Don't let him touch me!” pleaded Wally, as the jail guard dragged him forward. “Why so tremulous ?” Somers demanded. “The only way that I want to touch you is to shake hands with you. Will you shake?” “Do you mean it?” asked Wally Wimpins incredulously. “Yes, of course. Eph held out his hand. AND THE SMUGGLERS 249 the title, “THE SUBMARINE BOYS' SECRET Mis- SION; Or, Beating an Ambassador's Game." This exciting narrative has to do with the intrigues that set nations by the ears. It gives many a glimpse of the way that governments conduct their affairs with each other. 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