word. Won’t Eph Somers dance a jig for delight, though?”

“Yes; we’d better look both boats over at once,” replied Mr. Farnum,
picking up his hat. “And we’ll leave word for Grant Andrews and some of
his machinists to inspect both craft with us. There may be a few things
that will need to be done.”

As they left the office, crossing the yard, Captain Jack Benson and Hal
Hastings felt exactly as though they were walking on air. Even Hal, quiet
as he was, had caught the joy-infection of these orders to proceed to
Annapolis. To be sent to the United States Naval Academy on a tour of
instruction is what officers of the Navy often call “the prize detail.”

Farnum and his two youthful companions went, first of all, to the long,
shed-like building in which the third submarine craft to be turned out at
this yard was now being built. From inside came the noisy clang of hammers
against metal. The shipbuilder stepped inside alone, but soon came out,
nodding. The three now continued on their way down to the little harbor.
All of a sudden the three stopped short, almost with a jerk, in the same
second, as though pulled by a string.

At exactly the same instant Jacob Farnum, Captain Jack Benson and Engineer
Hal Hastings put up their hands to rub their eyes.

Their senses had told them truly, however. While the “Pollard” rode
serenely at her moorings, the “Farnum,” the second boat to be launched,
was nowhere to be seen!

“What on earth has happened to the other submarine?” gasped the
shipbuilder, as soon as he could somewhat control his voice.