Machinists and cadets stood about, passing
him the tools he needed, and helping him when required.
At last, after disconnecting some parts, Hal drew out a long, slender
brass piston.
As he held it up young Hastings's face went as white as chalk.
"Do you see this?" he demanded, hoarsely.
"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.
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