"This fellow has been 'doping' our engines," announced Captain Jack. "And
now he's threatening to stand us off. We'll close in on him from both
sides. If he tries to use that steel bar on any of us--"
"If he does, he'll curse his unlucky star," declared Midshipman Merriam.
"Come on, gentlemen. We'll show him some of the Navy football tactics!"
The three midshipmen approached Truax steadily from the right. Jack, Hal
and Williamson stepped in on the left.
With a yell like that of a maniac Sam Truax swung the bar.
Having to watch both sides at once, however, he made a fizzle of it. The
bar came down, but struck the floor.
Then, with a yell, the midshipmen leaped in on one side, Jack leading the
submarine forces on the other. Mr. Merriam's trip and Jack's smashing blow
with the fist brought Truax down to the floor in a heap.
"Now, cart this human rubbish out of here!" ordered Jack Benson, sternly.
"Don't hit him--he isn't man enough to be worthy of a blow!"
Swooping down upon the prostrate one, Hal and the midshipmen seized Sam
Truax by his arms and legs, carrying him bodily out of the engine room.
"Williamson," commanded Captain Jack, "stop the speed.
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