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But the Sea Lion was equal to the task set for her, andall the remainder of the night the chase went on.]
BOY SCOUTS IN A SUBMARINE
OR
SEARCHING AN OCEAN FLOOR
By G. HARVEY RALPHSON
Author ofBOY SCOUTS IN AN AIRSHIPBOY SCOUTS IN MEXICOBOY SCOUTS IN THE NORTHWESTBOY SCOUTS ON MOTOR CYCLES
CONTENTS
I. LOST ON AN OCEAN FLOORII. A CONFLICT OF AUTHORITYIII. "THE DANDY SUBMARINE"IV. A WOLF ON THE TRAILV. TWO WOLVES IN A PENVI. NIGHT ON AN OCEAN FLOORVII. THE SECRET OF THE HOLDVIII. ON GUARD UNDER THE SEAIX. "JIMMIE'S FOOLISH--LIKE A FOX"X. A CHASE ON THE OCEAN FLOORXI. JIMMIE GOES OUT HUNTINGXII. JACK MAKES A DISCOVERYXIII. JIMMIE DEMANDS A MEDALXIV. A BOY SCOUT WITH A "PUNCH"XV. A DESPERATE PRISONERXVI. A BLUFF THAT DIDN'T WORKXVII. BAD FOR THE SEA CREATURESXVIII. "MAKING A GOOD JOB OF IT"XIX. ON THE EDGE OF DISASTERXX. AN ENDING AND A BEGINNING
CHAPTER I
LOST ON AN OCEAN FLOOR
The handsome clubroom of the Black Bear Patrol, Boy Scouts of America,in the City of New York, was ablaze with light, and as noisy ashealthy, happy boys could well make it.
"Over in the Chinese Sea!" shouted Jimmie McGraw from a table whichstood by an open window overlooking the brilliantly illuminated city."Do we go to the washee-washee land this time?"
"Only to the tub!" Jack Bosworth put in.
"What's the answer?" asked Frank Shaw, sitting down on the edge of thetable and rumpling Jimmie's red hair with both hands.
Jimmie broke away and, after bouncing a football off his tormentor'sback, perched himself on the back of a great easy chair.
"The answer?" Jack said, after peace had been in a measure restored,"I thought everybody knew that the Chinks wash their clothes in theGulf of Tong King and hang them out to dry on the mountains of KwangTung! Are we going there, Ned?" he added, turning to Ned Nestor, whosat by a nearby window, looking out over the city. "Are we going tothe gulf of Tong King?"
Ned left his chair by the window and walked over to the table.
"I hardly know," he said, taking a roll of maps and drawings from hisbreast pocket and spreading them out on the table. "When Captain Moorearrives we shall know more about it."
"Who's Captain Moore?"
This from Jimmie, still sitting on the back of the chair, elbows onknees, chin on palms.
"Is he going to be the big noise?"
This from Jack Bosworth, who was reaching out with his foot in a vaineffort to tip Jimmie's chair and send him sprawling.
"Is Captain Moore going with us?"
This question was asked by Frank Shaw with a show of anxiety. When outon their trips the Boy Scouts did not relish having older men about toshow authority.
"One question at a time!" laughed Ned. "To answer the first queryfirst, Captain Moore is the Secret Service officer who is to post uswith regard to our mission to Chinese waters. Second he will, to usethe slang adopted by Jack, be the 'Big Noise' as long as he is withus. Third, I don't know whether he is going on the journey with us ornot."
"Here's hopin' he don't!" cried Jimmie.
"He'll want us to sit in baby chairs at tables and object to ourtakin' moonlight walks on the bottom of the sea! Is he covered allover with brass buttons, an' does he strut like this?"
Jimmie bounded to the floor and walked up and down the room with amock military stride which set his companions into roars of laughter.
"I have never seen him," Ned replied. "He is coming here tonight, andyou must judge for yourself what kind of a man he is."
"Here?" asked Frank. "Here to this club-room? The boys won't do athing to him if he puts on dog!"
"Is he a submarine expert?" asked Frank.
"Sure!" replied Jack. "He wouldn't be sent here to post us if hewasn't, would he?"
"I don't believe he knows any more about a submarine, right now, thanNed does," Jimmie exclaimed. "Ned's been taking walks on the bottom ofthe Bay every mornin' for a week!"
Jack and Frank turned to Ned with amazement showing on their faces.
"Have you, Ned?" they asked, in chorus.
"Have you been out training without letting us know about it?"
"You bet he has!" Jimmie grinned. "I've been with him most of the timetoo. This Captain Moore, whoever he is, hain't got nothin' on Ned whenit comes to makin' the wheels go round under the water."
"Oh, you!" laughed Jack, pointing a finger at Jimmie. "You can't run asubmarine, even if Ned can."
"You wait an' see!" retorted the boy, indignantly. "You wait until weget into the Chinese sea, then you'll see what I know about boats thattravel on ocean beds!"
"Can he run a submarine, Ned?" asked Jack.
"Well," was the laughing reply, "he did pretty well on the last trip.If some one hadn't interfered with his steering I reckon he would havetipped the Statue of Liberty into the Atlantic!"
Jimmie winked when the others roared at him and then lookedreproachfully at Ned.
"You promised not to tell about that!" he said, accusingly.
At that moment a knock came on the door of the clubroom, which was onthe top of the palatial residence of Jack Bosworth's father, and amoment later a tall, military-looking man with a white, stern face,thin straight lips and cold blue eyes was shown in. He paused justoutside the doorway, and the boy who did not catch the sneer on hischalky face as he looked superciliously over the group must have beenvery unobservant indeed.
"Gee! He don't seem to like the looks of us!" Jimmie whispered toFrank Shaw, as Ned stepped forward to greet the newcomer.
"Looks like a false alarm!" Frank replied, in an aside. "I hope wedon't have to lug him along with us."
"We won't need any cold storage arrangement on the submarine if hedoes go!" Jimmie went on. "That face of his would freeze hot steel."
Captain Moore of the United States Secret Service remained standingnear the door until Ned reached his side. Then he lifted a singleglass, inserted it in his eye-orbit and stood gazing at the boy whohad advanced to welcome him.
Ned stepped back, coldly, and Jimmie nudged Jack delightedly when hesaw the lad's face harden into bare civility.
"Aw," began the visitor, "I'm looking for--ah!--Mr. Nestor!"
"I'm Ned Nestor," said the boy, shortly.
"Fawncy!"
Ned pointed toward the table where the other boys were sitting andmoved away.
"Fawncy!" repeated the visitor.
Ned made no reply. Instead, he marched to the table, drew a chairforward, and motioned Captain Moore to be seated.
Before complying with this gracious invitation the Captain glancedaround the apartment with the supercilious sneer he had shown onentering. The boys watched him with heavy frowns on their faces.
"If we've got to take this along in the submarine," Jimmie whisperedto Jack, "I hope the boat will drop down into a deep hole and staythere. Look at it!"
"Hush!" whispered the other. "It has ears!"
Those who have read the first and second volumes of this series willunderstand without being told here that it was a very fine clubroomupon which the frosty blue eyes of the Secret Service man looked.
The walls were adorned with all manner of hunting and fishingparaphernalia, together with many trophies of the chase. Foils,gloves, ball bats, paddles and many other athletic aids were scatteredabout the large room.
This clubroom, that of the Black Bear Patrol, as has been said, wasthe handsomest in New York, the members of the Patrol being sons ofvery wealthy men. The father
of Frank Shaw was editor and owner of oneof the important daily newspapers of the metropolis. Jack Bosworth'sfather was a prominent corporation lawyer, while Harry Stevens, a ladwith a historical hobby, was a prominent automobile manufacturer.
Ned Nestor, the boy just now trying to entertain the very formalCaptain Moore, was a member of the Wolf Patrol, also of New York, aswas also Jimmie McGraw, who had been a Bowery newsboy before joiningfortunes with Ned.
As is well known to most of our readers, Ned had, at one time andanother, undertaken and successfully accomplished delicate andhazardous enterprises for the United States Government. Accompanied byFrank, Jack, Jimmie, Harry, and other members of the Boy Scout Patrolsof the United States, he had visited Mexico, the Canal Zone, thePhilippines, the Great Northwest, had navigated the Columbia river ina motor boat, and had covered the continent of South America in anaeroplane.
He was now about to enter upon, perhaps, the most important missionever assigned to him by the Secret Service department. The story ofthe quest upon which he was about to enter will best be told in theconversation which now took place in the clubroom of the Black BearPatrol on this evening of the 11th of September.
Presently Captain Moore transferred his gaze from the apartment to theboys gathered about the table and grouped about the place. As a matterof course all conversation in the room had ceased on the arrival ofthe Captain. While the boys who were not fortunate enough to beplanning on the trip in the submarine were too courteous to openlystare at their guest of the moment, it may well be believed that hisevery look and word was closely noted.
Concluding his rather rude observations, Captain Moore dropped hisglass, shrugged his shoulders, which were heavily padded, and gaveutterance to his feelings in the one word of comments which he hadtwice used before:
"Fawncy!"
Ned said not a word, but waited for the visitor to lead out in thetalk. Captain Moore was in no haste to begin, but he finally broke thesilence by asking:
"You are Ned Nestor?"
Ned bowed stiffly. He did not like the man he was supposed to dobusiness with, and did not try to conceal the fact.
"The Ned Nestor who undertook the Secret Service work in the CanalZone and South America?"
Ned nodded again.
"Fawncy!"
"You said that before?" broke in Jimmie, who was fuming under the ideathat the Captain was not treating his chum with proper courtesy.
The Captain brought his glass into use again and looked the boy over,much as he would have inspected a curio in a museum. Jimmie glaredback, and the eyes of the two fenced for a moment before a twinkle ofhumor appeared in those of the Captain.
"You are Jimmie, eh?" the latter demanded.
Jimmie would have made some discourteous reply only for the tug Nedgave at his sleeve. As it was he only nodded.
"Aw, I've heard of you!" the Captain said, then. "Quite remarkable--quiteextraordinary!"
"You came to deliver instructions regarding the submarine trip?" Nedasked, feeling revolt in the air of the room.
Unless something was done, the boys, all resenting the manner of theCaptain, would be beyond control, and then the Secret Service manwould be likely to leave the place in anger.
This, in turn, might endanger the adventure already planned andprepared for, for the chief of the department might see fit to adoptwhatever recommendations Captain Moore made in the matter.
The visitor might have sensed the hostility, for he hastened to takefrom a pocket a sheaf of papers and place them on the table. The nextmoment the boys all saw that they had not gained a correct estimate ofthe Secret Service man.
The instant he began talking of the matter which had brought him tothe clubroom his manner changed. He was no longer the drawling,supercilious naval officer in resplendent uniform. He was akeen-brained mechanical expert, questioning Ned regarding his knowledgeof submarines.
"You are fairly well up in the matter," the Captain said, going backto his old drawl, in a few moments. "I shall not object to your goingon the Diver with me."
The boys all gasped. So their worst fears were coming true! TheCaptain was indeed going with them! He would be the commander, and Nedwould be obliged to work under his orders if he went at all!
Would Ned do this? Would he submit to the authority of another whilepractically responsible for the results of the trip? Frank, Jack, andJimmie saw their cherished plans go glimmering.
Ned made no reply whatever. Instead he began asking questionsconcerning the Diver as the submarine the Captain had in view wasnamed, and also about the object of the expedition.
"A short time ago," the Captain said, "the Cutaria, a fast mail boat,went down in the Gulf of Tong King, carrying with her many passengers,the United States mails, and $10,000,000 in gold consigned to theChinese Government. We are to search the ocean floor for the gold, andalso for information sought by the Department of State."
"Who got careless and dropped $10,000,000 on an ocean floor?" askedJimmie.
CHAPTER II
A CONFLICT OF AUTHORITY
Boy Scouts in a Submarine; Or, Searching an Ocean Floor Page 1
