“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.

“If you young men haven’t any business in here,” he ordered, “get out and on your way.  Work is about to begin here.  I’m the foreman.”

“Oh, Mr. Owen,” hailed the inventor, “these are two very bright young chaps, with some experience, that I’ve engaged to help us out with installing the machinery in the boat.”

“Couldn’t you have consulted me, sir?” asked the foreman, again looking keenly at the youngsters.

“When you’ve found out what they can do, Mr. Owen,” replied Pollard.  “I believe you’ll be rather pleased with them.  They’re hired only on trial, you understand.”

“I can tell whether we want ’em before we start work,” grunted the foreman.  With that he began to fire all manner of machine-shop questions at both boys.  Yet Jack and Hal, paying respectful heed, answered in a way that showed them to be quite well informed about this class of work.

“They won’t do Mr. Pollard—­won’t do at all,” announced Foreman Owen, turning to the inventor.  “I know their kind.  They’re glib talkers, and all that, but they belong to the know-it-all class of boys.  I’ve had a lot of experience with that kind of ’prentices, and I don’t want ’em bothering our work here.  So I say, sir, the only thing for you to do is to send them about their business.”

Foreman Owen spoke as though that settled the matter.  Jack Benson and Hal Hastings felt their hopes oozing.

“I’ve told the boys they shall have a chance Mr. Owen,” replied Pollard quietly, yet in a tone of authority.  “So of course my word must be kept with them.”

“But I’m the foreman,” exclaimed Joshua Owen, irritably, “and I’m supposed to—­”

“Exactly,” interposed David Pollard.  “You’re supposed to obey all instructions from your superiors here, and to give your advice when it’s wanted.  I have much at stake in the success of this boat, and when I find what looks like good material for our working crew I’m going to try out that material.”

“But I don’t want to be bothered with boys, like these young fellows,” retorted the foreman, angrily.  “This is no job for amateurs!”

“The boys remain until they’ve been well tried out,” retorted Pollard, firmly.  “If they can’t do our kind of work, then of course we’ll let them go.”