“Well, down to Farnum’s boatyard they’re putting up a craft that’s known as ‘Pollard’s Folly.’”

“And why wouldn’t they want that photographed?” demanded young Benson.

“Because it’s one of them sure-death boats they hope to sell the Government, and the United States Government don’t care ‘bout havin’ its war craft secrets snap-shotted,” replied Jabez Holt.

“Didn’t you speak of Pollard’s boat?” demanded Jack, his eyes agleam with sudden interest.

“Ye-es,” admitted Mr. Holt, slowly.  “A boat that’ll drown its score of men, I reckon, an’ then lay somewhere an’ eat itself out with rust.”

“A submarine boat, isn’t it?” continued Jack, quickly.

“Yep; submarine torpedo boat:  One of them crazy craft that men will build against all sense of what’s decent on salt water.”

“Why, I’ve read about that boat;” Jack ran on, eagerly.  “And, from what the newspapers said, I’ve gathered the idea that David Pollard’s boat is going to put the United States completely ahead of all other nations at sea.”

“That’s the way Dave Pollard talks,” returned Mr. Holt, grimly.  “But folks ‘round Dunhaven, I must say, don’t think over an’ above of him or his boat.  They—­”

“Oh, bother the folks around Dunhaven!” broke in Jack Benson, impatiently.  “If the place is the best they know how to do in the way of a town, I don’t care a heap about their ideas of boats.  And—­but I beg your pardon, Mr. Holt.  My tongue’s running a bit ahead of my manners, I guess.  So this is where that famous submarine torpedo boat is being built?  And she’s a diving boat, at that?”

“Well, I guess mebbe she’ll dive, all right,” chuckled Jabez Holt.  “But as to her comin’ up again, I reckon the ‘Pollard’ ain’t goin’ to be so certain.”

“Where are they building her?  Farnum’s shipyard, you said?”

“Right over yonder,” explained Mr. Holt, pointing to a high board fence that enclosed a space down by the water front.  Farnum’s “boatyard,” as thus seen, was about an eighth of a mile from the little hotel, and looked as though it might be considerable of a plant.

“Who’s in charge of the boat?” was Jack’s next question.

“Well, now, that’s a conundrum,” replied Jabez Holt, pondering.  “Jake Farnum owns the yard.  Jake is a young man, only a few years out of college.  He inherited the business from his father, who’s dead.  Jake is considered a pretty good business man, though he don’t know much ‘bout boats, an’ can’t seem to learn a heap, nuther.  So Jake leans on Asa Partridge, the superintendent, who was also superintendent under old man Farnum.  However, old man Farnum’s line was building sailing yachts, small schooners, and, once in a while, a tug-boat.  That’s in Asa Partridge’s line, but he won’t have nothin’ much to do with new schemes like diving torpedo boats.”

“Then—­” hinted Jack.