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The Submarine Boys on Duty Life on a Diving Torpedo Boat
The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Submarine Boys on Duty, by Victor G. Durham
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Title: The Submarine Boys on Duty Life of a Diving Torpedo Boat
Author: Victor G. Durham
Release Date: November 12, 2005 [eBook #17054]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SUBMARINE BOYS ON DUTY***
E-text prepared by Jim Ludwig
Note: This is book one of eight of the Submarine Boys Series.
THE SUBMARINE BOYS ON-DUTY
Life on a Diving Torpedo Boat
by
VICTOR G. DURHAM
1909
CONTENTS
CHAPTERS
I. Two Boys Who Planned to Become Great
II. The Fighting Chance
III. Josh Owen Starts Trouble
IV. The Trick of the Flashlight
V. One Man's Dumfounded Face
VI. Along the Trail of Trouble
VII. When Thieves Fall Out
VIII. A Swift Stroke for Honor
IX. The Submarine Makes Its Bow to Old Ocean
X. Under Water, Where Men's Nerves are Tried
XI. The Try-Out in the Depths
XII. The Discovery From the Conning Tower
XIII. A High-Sea Mystery
XIV. An Up-To-Date Revenge
XV. The Courage That Rang True
XVI. The Last Second of the Nick of Time
XVII. In the Grip of Horror
XVIII. The Last Gasp of Despair
XIX. Jack Strikes the Key to the Mystery
XX. "One On" the Watch Officer
XXI. The Man Who Dropped the Glass
XXII. A Dive That was Like Magic
XXIII. Wanted, Badly—One Steward!
XXIV. Conclusion
CHAPTER I
TWO BOYS WHO PLANNED TO BECOME GREAT
"So this is Dunhaven?" inquired Jack Benson.
"Ye-es," slowly responded Jabez Holt, not rising from the chair in which he sat tilted back against the outer wall on the hotel porch.
"It looks like it," muttered Hal Hastings, under his breath.
"Doesn't look like a very bustling place, does it?" asked Jack, with a smile, as he set down a black, cloth-covered box on the porch and leisurely helped himself to a chair.
The box looked as though it might contain a camera. "Tin-type fellers," thought Holt to himself, and did not form a very high estimate of the two boys, neither of whom was more than sixteen years of age.
Just now, both boys were dusty from long travel on foot, which condition, at a merely first glance, concealed the fact that both were neatly enough, even if plainly, dressed.
"Huh!" was all the response Jabez Holt made to Jack's pleasant comment. Hal, however, not in the least discouraged by a reception that was not wholly flattering, set down a box not unlike Jack's, and also something hidden in a green cloth cover that suggested a camera tripod. Hal helped himself to one of the two remaining chairs on the porch of the little hotel.
"Takin' pictures?" asked Jabez Holt, after a pause spent in chewing at a tooth-pick.
"Yes, some of the time," Jack assented. "It helps out a bit when two fellows without rich fathers take a notion to travel."
"I s'pose so," grunted Jabez. He was not usually considered, by his fellow-townsmen, a disagreeable fellow, but a hotel keeper must always preserve a proper balance of suspicion when dealing with strangers, and especially strangers who follow callings that do not commonly lead to prosperity. Probably "Old Man" Holt, as he was known, remembered a few experiences with the tribe of itinerant photographers. At any rate he did not mean to make the mistake of being too cordial with these young representatives of the snap-shot art.
"Is there any business around here?" asked Jack, after awhile.
"Oh, there's a Main Street, back uptown, that has some real pretty homes," admitted the hotel keeper, "an' some likely-lookin' cross streets. Dunhaven ain't an awful homely town, as ye'll see after you've walked about a bit."
"But is there any business here?" insisted Hal Hastings, patiently.
"I guess maybe you're business photografters, then?" suggested the hotel keeper.
"What kinds of business are there here?" asked Jack.
Jabez Holt cast away a much-mangled toothpick and placed another in his mouth before he replied, with a chuckle:
"Well, I reckon about the only business here that the town is doing any talkin' about at present is one that don't want no photografters around."
"And what may that business be?" persisted Jack.
"Well, down to Farnum's boatyard they're putting up a craft that's known as 'Pollard's Folly.'"
"And why wouldn't they want that photographed?" demanded young Benson.
"Because it's one of them sure-death boats they hope to sell the Government, and the United States Government don't care 'bout havin' its war craft secrets snap-shotted," replied Jabez Holt.
"Didn't you speak of Pollard's boat?" demanded Jack, his eyes agleam with sudden interest.
"Ye-es," admitted Mr. Holt, slowly. "A boat that'll drown its score of men, I reckon, an' then lay somewhere an' eat itself out with rust."
"A submarine boat, isn't it?" continued Jack, quickly.
"Yep; submarine torpedo boat: One of them crazy craft that men will build against all sense of what's decent on salt water."
"Why, I've read about that boat;" Jack ran on, eagerly. "And, from what the newspapers said, I've gathered the idea that David Pollard's boat is going to put the United States completely ahead of all other nations at sea."
"That's the way Dave Pollard talks," returned Mr. Holt, grimly. "But folks 'round Dunhaven, I must say, don't think over an' above of him or his boat. They—"
"Oh, bother the folks around Dunhaven!" broke in Jack Benson, impatiently. "If the place is the best they know how to do in the way of a town, I don't care a heap about their ideas of boats. And—but I beg your pardon, Mr. Holt. My tongue's running a bit ahead of my manners, I guess. So this is where that famous submarine torpedo boat is being built? And she's a diving boat, at that?"
"Well, I guess mebbe she'll dive, all right," chuckled Jabez Holt. "But as to her comin' up again, I reckon the 'Pollard' ain't goin' to be so certain."
"Where are they building her? Farnum's shipyard, you said?"
"Right over yonder," explained Mr. Holt, pointing to a high board fence that enclosed a space down by the water front. Farnum's "boatyard," as thus seen, was about an eighth of a mile from the little hotel, and looked as though it might be considerable of a plant.
"Who's in charge of the boat?" was Jack's next question.
"Well, now, that's a conundrum," replied Jabez Holt, pondering. "Jake Farnum owns the yard. Jake is a young man, only a few years out of