Then you can go where you please."
"I'm here by David Pollard's order. Do you forget that?"
"He sent you along to us, true," admitted Jack, "but I have instructions
from Mr. Farnum to dismiss anyone whose work on board I don't like. Now,
Truax, you're a competent enough man in the engine room, and there's no
sense in having to let you go. You're well paid, and can afford the time
on shore. I wouldn't make any more fuss about this, but do as the rest of
us are going to do."
"Oh, I'll have to, then, since you're boss here," grumbled Truax, sulkily.
"I don't want to make it felt too much that I _am_ boss here," Jack
retorted, mildly. "At the same time, though, I'm held responsible, and so
I suppose I'll have to have things done the way that seems best to me."
Sam Truax turned to get his satchel. The instant his back was turned on
the young commander Sam's face was a study in ugliness.
"Oh, I'll take this all out of you," muttered the fellow to himself. "I
don't believe, Jack Benson, you'll go on the cruising next week. If you
do, you won't be much good, anyway!"
Ten minutes later a shore boat landed the entire party from the submarine
craft.
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