The next of the workmen to arrive was Michael O'brien, red-haired and
about twenty-eight years of age. He was good-humored and talkative, and
the two boys took an immediate liking to him.

Through the gate of the yard came Joshua Owen, a man of forty-five, of
medium height, broad-shouldered, black-haired and with a frame that
spoke of great physical power and endurance. Yet he had restless,
rather evil-looking eyes. He did not look like the sort of man whom
a timid fellow would want for an enemy.

"Hold on there, Unc," greeted Dan Jaggers, motioning his foreman-uncle
aside. "Say, you know that cheeky young fellow I told ye about--the
tricky one that played the sneak on me, and gave me this black eye?"

"Haven't you met him and paid him back yet?" demanded Mr. Owen.

"Hadn't seen him again, until just now," complained Dan. "What do you
think? Pollard has engaged that feller and his friend to work on the
submarine."

"Has, eh? Without speaking to me about it?" demanded Joshua Owen,
looking anything but pleased.

"Of course you'll let Pollard know that you're foreman and take on
and lay off your own gang," hinted Jaggers.

"Now, you leave me alone, Dan, boy, to know what to do," retorted Mr.
Owen. Then he stepped on toward the long shed, a very grim look on
his face. Going inside the shed, the foreman looked the two boys
over briefly.