The Submarine Boys and the Middies Part 23

Then straight East, for an hour they went, getting well out of the path of coasting vessels.

"Hullo! What in blazes does that mean?" suddenly demanded Hal, pointing astern at starboard.

The "Pollard" lay tossing gently on the water, making no headway. Hardly ten seconds later the "Hudson" signaled a halt.

Then followed some rapid signaling between the gunboat and the submarine that had stopped. There was some break in the "Pollard's" machinery, but the cause had not yet been determined.

"Blazes!" muttered Jack, uneasily. "It couldn't have happened at a worse time. This looks bad for our firm, Hal!"

The "Farnum" now lay to, as did the "Hudson," for the officer in command of the "Pollard" signaled that his machinists were making a rapid but thorough investigation of the unfortunate submarine's engines.

Finally, a cutter put off from the "Hudson," with a cadet midshipman in charge. The small boat came over alongside, and the midshipman called up:

"The lieutenant commander's compliments, and will Mr. Benson detail Mr.

Hastings to go over to the 'Pollard' and a.s.sist?"

"My compliments to the lieutenant commander," Jack replied. "And be good enough to report to him, please, that Mr. Hastings and I will both go."

"My orders, sir, are to convey you to the 'Pollard' before reporting back to the parent vessel," replied the midshipman.

The cutter came alongside, taking off the two submarine boys, while Eph Somers devoted himself to watching Sam Truax as a bloodhound might have hung to a trail.

Arrived on board the good, old, familiar "Pollard," Jack and Hal hurried below.

"The machinery is too hot to handle, now, sir," reported one of the naval machinists, "but it looks as though something was wrong right in there"-pointing.

"Put one of the electric fans at work there, at once," directed Hal. "Then things ought to be cool enough in half an hour, to make an examination possible."

After seeing this done, the two submarine boys left for the platform deck, for the engine room was both hot and crowded.

"How long is it going to take you, Mr. Hastings?" asked the naval officer in command of the "Pollard."

"Half an hour to get the parts cool enough to examine, but I can't say, sir, how long the examination and repairs will take."

So the officer in command signaled what proved to be vague and unsatisfactory information to Lieutenant Commander Mayhew.

"This is a bad time to have this sort of thing happen," observed the naval officer in charge.

"A mighty bad time, sir," Jack murmured.

"And the engines of the 'Pollard' were supposed to be in first-cla.s.s condition."

"They _were_ in A-1 condition, when the boat was turned over to the Navy,"

Jack responded.

"Do you imagine, then, Mr. Benson, that some of the naval machinists have been careless or incompetent?"

"Why, that would be a wild guess to make, sir, when one remembers what high rank your naval machinists take in their work," Jack Benson replied.

"And this boat was sold to the Navy with the strongest guarantee for the engines," pursued the officer in charge.

Jack and Hal were both worried. The sudden break had a bad look for the Pollard boats, in the success of which these submarine boys were most vitally interested.

At last, from below, the suspected parts of the engine were reported to be cool enough for examination. The naval officer in charge followed Jack and Hal below.

Taking off his uniform blouse and rolling up his sleeves, Hal sailed in vigorously to locate the fault. Machinists and cadets stood about, pa.s.sing him the tools he needed, and helping him when required.

At last, after disconnecting some parts, Hal drew out a long, slender bra.s.s piston.

As he held it up young Hastings's face went as white as chalk.

"Do you see this?" he demanded, hoa.r.s.ely.

"Filed, crazily, and it also looks as though the inner end had been heated and tampered with," gasped Jack Benson.

"This, sir," complained Hal, turning around to face the naval officer in charge, "looks like a direct attempt to tamper with and damage the engine.

Someone has done this deliberately, sir. It only remains to find the culprit."

"Then we'll find out," retorted the naval officer, "if it takes a court of inquiry and a court martial to do it. But are you sure of your charge, Mr.

Hastings?"

"Am I sure?" repeated Hal, all the soul of the young engineer swelling to the surface. "Take this piston, sir, and examine it. Could such a job have been done, unless by sheer design and intent?"

"Will the lieutenant permit me to speak?" asked the senior machinist, taking a step forward and saluting.

"Yes; go ahead."

"Yesterday morning, sir," continued the senior machinist, "we thought the engines needed some overhauling by someone more accustomed to them than we were. We saw one of the machinists of the 'Farnum,' sir, hanging about on sh.o.r.e. So we invited him aboard and asked him to look the engines over."

"Describe the man," begged Jack.

The senior machinist gave a description that instantly denoted Sam Truax as the man in question.

"Did you leave him alone in here, at any time?" demanded Hal.

"Let me see. Why, yes, sir. The man must have been alone in here some three-quarters of an hour."

Jack and Hal exchanged swift glances.

There seemed, now, very little need of carrying the investigation further.

CHAPTER XV: ANOTHER TURN AT HARD LUCK