submarine boys to handle your boats in the official tests."

"Oh, I can depend upon my boys," replied Jacob Farnum, quickly. "I know
all about them."

Yet, as the shipbuilder gazed from the conning tower at the rival
submarines actual drops of cold sweat oozed out on his forehead.
Success meant so much to this shipbuilder, who had all his capital, to
the last penny, invested in this submarine game.

"The worst of it is, we've got to keep on the lookout for dirty tricks!"
groaned the shipbuilder, to himself. "We are willing to play fair to
the last gasp. No doubt some of the other competing submarine builders
feel the same way about it. Yet, with so many rivals in the field,
there are sure to be one or two rascally fellows who won't consider
any trick too low to give them an advantage."

Though Mr. Farnum had no particular rival, or rivals, in mind, his fears,
as was afterwards proven, were only too well founded.

"Take the wheel, please, Mr. Farnum," Jack, begged. He ran down the
steps to call:

"On deck, Biffens!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" replied the sailor, scrambling to obey.

Jack was out on the platform deck, megaphone in hand, by the time that
his employer ran up rather close to the "Chelsea."