"I'm afraid," muttered Hal, rejoining Benson, "that I'll simply have to go
below."
"I'm afraid so," nodded Jack. "We simply can't afford to lose this or any
other race to the 'Pollard.'"
"Williamson knows that fully as well as we do, though," Hal Hastings went
on. "And Williamson--"
Of a sudden Hal stopped short. He half staggered, clutching at a rail,
while his eyes stared and his lips twitched.
"Why--why--there's Williamson--aft on the deck!" muttered Hastings.
"What!"
Jack, too, wheeled like a flash. Back there in a crowd of cadets stood the
machinist upon whom the submarine boys were depending for the best showing
that the "Farnum" could make.
"Williamson up here!" gasped Hal. "And--"
"That fellow, Truax, all alone with the motors!" hissed Captain Jack.
Then, after a second or two of startled silence:
"Come on, Hal!"
The naval cadets were too much absorbed in watching the race to have
overheard anything. Williamson, too, standing at the rail, looking out
over the water, had not yet discovered that Hal Hastings was up from the
engine room.
Jack Benson stole below on tip-toe, though with the machinery running so
much stealth was not necessary.
Pages:
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154