“I s’pose ye feel me and you had trouble, and you got the best of it?” leered the former foreman, then scowled.  “But listen to me, younker.  Ye’re going to run into trouble, and quicker than ye think, at that.  That old cigar shaped death-trap won’t float—­not for long, anyway.  All I’m hoping is that ye’ll go in for bein’ one of the crew of that submarine boat.  Then I’ll be even with a lot of ye all at the same time!”

With which enigmatic prophecy Joshua Owen let go of the boy’s arm, and tramped heavily away, followed by his precious nephew.

CHAPTER IV

THE TRICK OF THE FLASHLIGHT

“Have you seen anything of Owen, since he was discharged?”

It was David Pollard who put the question, while the crew, under the new foreman, Andrews, was busy the next day with more work on the motor fittings.

Then, for the first time, except to his chum, Jack Benson told of his meeting in the yard.

“Making threats against you, and against the boat, is he?” smiled Mr. Pollard.  “Well, he can’t get near the boat.  Partridge took the precaution of getting the keys back from Owen yesterday afternoon, when the fellow went to get paid off.  But as for his threats against you—­”

“It will be just as well to look out for the fellow, Benson, and you, too, Hastings,” put in young Mr. Farnum, who happened to be aboard.  “Owen is an ugly fellow, and a powerful one, and I imagine he possesses a certain amount of rough brute courage.”

“I’m not afraid of him, sir,” replied Jack, coolly.  “At the same time, of course, I’ll keep my eyes open.”

“Owen probably can’t hang around Dunhaven very long, anyway,” continued the owner of the yard.  “I don’t believe he has very much saved.  Of course, he can’t get any work in his line in Dunhaven, now that this yard is closed to him.  So look out for a day or two, and, after that, I guess he’ll be gone.”

“I’ll keep my eye open, but I shan’t lose any rest,” smiled young Benson, confidently—­too confidently, as the sequel proved.

Work was now proceeding at a rapid rate.  Andrews was an ideal foreman, quiet, alert, watchful and understanding his trade thoroughly.  He was something of a driver, as to speed, but workmen do not resent that if the one in authority be just and capable.

“I wish we had had you as foreman from the start, Andrews,” remarked the inventor.

“Well, I was here, and ready to be called at any time,” replied the new foreman, with a smile.

“By the way, you don’t seem to have any trouble with Benson or Hastings,” pursued Mr. Pollard.

“Not a bit.  They’re good helpers.  In fact, young as they are, they are a long way on the road to being real mechanics.”

“You don’t find them forward, or—­well, fresh?”

“They’re not the least bit troubled that way,” replied the new foreman emphatically.  “Owen didn’t get along with them, and couldn’t have done so, because he’s a nagger, and no self-respecting workman will stand for a nagger.  There were times when O’brien and I wondered if we hadn’t better pitch him out and then leave our jobs.”