The Submarine Boys on Duty Part 22

"Arthur Miller," resumed Mr. Farnum, angrily, "was supposed to be a rich man, and at one time no doubt he was. But he got into speculation.

He was guardian of the fortune of his orphaned niece, Grace Desmond, a very sweet girl whom I've seen. Miller must have lost some of her fortune in his mad speculations. At any rate, he tried fearfully hard to marry his son, Fred, to her. I suppose he felt that if Miss Desmond became his daughter-in-law she couldn't very well prosecute her faithless guardian. But Miss Desmond, who will be of age in a few days, would have none of her Cousin Fred for a husband. She must have suspected much, too, for she had engaged lawyers and accountants to go over the state of her affairs. The whole party were at the house yesterday, when Miller and his son slipped out and got away in the son's sloop. It is believed that Arthur Miller converted all the rest of his niece's fortune into cash, and arranged with the schooner to pick him up in the night."

"Then I think I understand, sir," broke in Jack, quietly, "how that sloop came to capsize. I couldn't understand that before. But the Millers, father and son, must have figured that the overturned sloop would be found, and that they would be believed to have drowned. That would shut off pursuit. So whichever of the pair is a good sailor--"

"That's the son, Fred," interposed Mr. Farnum.

"Then Fred Miller, after fixing life preservers on both of them, must have watched for his chance at a good puff of wind, close-hauled on the sheet and sent the boat over. That explains why they weren't very cordial with us last night. Our overhauling them prevented their being reported drowned accidentally."

"Oh, confound them! Drat them!" roared Mr. Farnum. "Making me, and the rest of us, accomplices of a dastardly defaulter. If I ever run afoul of that crowd again--if I ever get my hands on them--won't I make them smart for their trick!"

Nor were the submarine boys much less angry over the part they had all been made to play.

CHAPTER XIV

AN UP-TO-DATE REVENGE

In the days that followed, the need of work drove away thoughts of the trick played by the Millers.

Trip after trip was made out to sea, and under the sea, in the "Pollard."

That fine little craft was tested under every condition that could be imagined, except that, of course, no torpedoes were fired through her business-like bow tube. The firing of torpedoes at sea belonged to the Navy exclusively. Such a test could not be made by a civilian trial crew.

By degrees the submarine boys outgrew every trace of dread at finding themselves well under the surface of the sea. Their confidence in the abilities of the "Pollard" made them daring to the point of recklessness.

Just once the boys did have strong occasion to remember the Millers.

That was when they were ash.o.r.e one night. Grace Desmond, the despoiled heiress, who, as events proved, was left without a dollar of her own, came to Dunhaven to live with friends until she could plan what she was to do to earn her living.

The three boys were walking, in uniform, with Mr. Farnum when that gentleman suddenly asked them, in low tones:

"Do you see that young lady in white, walking with the two old people, coming toward us?"

"Yes," Jack answered.

"That's Miss Desmond. I feel like going into a rage every time I see that poor girl. She was heiress to eight hundred thousand dollars. The lawyers believe that Arthur Miller carried off than half a million in cash belonging to Miss Desmond. And we helped start him on his journey.

Confound the rascal!"

Grace Desmond was a beautiful girl, above medium height, slender and dark. The simple white gown that she wore displayed her beauty at its best. Despite her fearful loss, when the boys first caught sight of her, she was smiling cheerily as she chatted with her elderly friends.

Mr. Farnum and his young friends came to a street corner just before they encountered Miss Desmond and her companions. The builder would have turned down the side street, but Miss Desmond called to him. So he was obliged to lift his hat and stand waiting until the girl reached him.

"I want just a word with you, Mr. Farnum," began Miss Desmond. "It has come to me that you are very much upset over having helped my uncle to escape. I want to tell you how foolish it is for you to be unhappy about it. You weren't in the least to blame. You did what any other good-natured man would have done under the circ.u.mstances. The only ones who can be blamed for any part in the affair are the two men from whom I had a right to expect the most considerate treatment. But as for you, Mr. Farnum, I beg that you will give my misfortune no further thought."

"That would be impossible," protested the builder.

"At least, never allow a thought of self-blame to creep in again.

Please don't," she added, appealingly. Then, as though to change the subject abruptly, she inquired:

"Are these the young men who handle the 'Pollard?' Present them to me, please."

The boys were introduced, also, to Mr. and Mrs. Scott, the elderly couple.

"Some time, Mr. Farnum, if it could be arranged, I wish very much that you would invite us to take a short trip aboard the submarine boat.

It will be the only chance of the kind we'll ever have."

"I certainly shall invite you," replied the builder. "But," he added, bitterly, "going aboard the boat that played the strong part in your undoing will be the nearest you will ever come, I fear, to a trail of your missing money. Pardon me"--Mr. Farnum choked suddenly--"I can't think of that night with patience."

"And that is just what I want you to forget, please," begged the girl, softly. Then she added, with a laugh: "I'll call a trip on the 'Pollard'

settlement in full for any claim you may think I have against you."

"I'll pay," groaned Farnum, "but it won't be settlement even in part."

When Miss Desmond and her friends had gone on again Farnum clenched his hands, muttering:

"The girl's kindness only makes my savage disgust with myself all the greater."

"Why, she's right in saying that you're not responsible in any way,"

urged Jack.

"Boys, if you ever happen up with that rascal, or his scowling son, and if you choke either one, and give him a sound beating, draw on me for a thousand dollars. If you can ever do anything that leads to the recovery of Miss Desmond's money, draw on me for anything you please!"

Two days later the promise to give Miss Desmond a trip on the "Pollard"

was kept. Mrs. Scott would not go, but her husband did. The girl even begged for a brief run under water, and stood it bravely, though with some pallor until she saw the sun once more shining in through the conning tower.

By the time that trip was over the submarine boys would have gone cheerily in the "Pollard?" through a sea of ink, blood or fire to serve the unfortunate young woman.

Very soon after that Miss Desmond plucked up sufficient courage to ask for the vacant position of typewriter in Mr. Farnum's office, and obtained it. She rapidly mastered the machine, and, in the meantime, gave all her spare time to the study of shorthand. She also learned to do much work on the books. Jacob Farnum would've made her post an easy one, but Grace Desmond insisted that she had her way to make in the world, and that she wanted to obtain a business training in the shortest time possible.

Although the "Pollard" went out every day, ever night she lay in the little harbor that formed the sea-board part of the yard. At her anchorage was a depth of seventy-five feet of water.

The three boys now lived wholly aboard, but it was dull there evenings, so after dark they spent much of the earlier hours of the night ash.o.r.e.

"Going ash.o.r.e with us to-night!" asked Hal, one evening, after the meal had been disposed of and the dishes washed and put away.

"Not to-night," replied Jack Benson, with a shake of his head. "I'm too much in earnest about wanting to know all about the handling of a submarine to waste all my leisure in fooling. See this book on mechanics? I'm going to stay aboard and study it to-night, and see how much of it I can get into my head."

"Good luck to you," laughed Eph. "If you succeed, maybe we'll stay on board to-morrow night and let you be schoolmaster. But this was pay-day, and the ice-cream soda up in the village fizzes good to me."

As soon as they had gone, Jack placed his book on the cabin table and drew up to it. Until dark he plodded through the pages, then turned on the electric light. Finding the book more difficult of comprehension than he had expected, he crouched over the volume, devoting his whole attention to the first few pages. Nine o'clock came and went.

Half-past nine went by. Had Benson heeded the time he would have concluded that his comrades had found village life unusually alluring to-night.

Through the dark, quiet boat yard prowled a man, pausing and listening every few steps, as though bent on trying to keep out of the sight of the night watchman.

It was Jack's old enemy, Josh Owen, who, so far, had cleverly kept out of the way of the officers seeking him.

In some way Josh had learned that the other two submarine boys were up in the village. The lights shining from the interior of the submarine proved that someone was aboard. Hence it must be Jack Benson.