They were nearing the streets of the village, and, Soon after the two Melvilles fell behind, Mr. Farnum found a constable who took the stranger in the blue uniform in charge.

Mr. Emerson excused himself, going to his own stopping place, but Mr. Farnum and Jack continued with the officer until they had seen the young stranger locked up.

Then Mr. Farnum hurriedly telephoned to the house of a lawyer, rousing that gentleman, and sending him to the lock-up to interview the prisoner.  Jacob Farnum had already returned to the young stranger the twenty dollars found in the envelope in his pocket.  The boatbuilder had also handed to Don Melville the envelope taken from him, after having ascertained that it contained only blank paper.

As Mr. Farnum and Captain Jack again turned into the street they encountered David Pollard, rushing along and looking much excited.

“Oh, here you are,” burst from the inventor.  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, since you were not at home.  Two things of the utmost importance have happened.”

“Some other things, also, of which I do not believe you yet know,” smiled the boatbuilder.  “But let’s have your news, first, Dave.”

“A thief, dressed in a uniform very much like Jack’s, and of the same size and similar build to our captain, broke into my room and stole the drawings for the automatic closer for the torpedo tube,” hastened on the inventor, almost breathlessly.  “I fired a shot at him, from my window, but he escaped.”

“We know the fellow, I guess,” nodded Jacob Farnum, “and we know he disposed of some blank paper to-night.  But I did not know your drawings had been stolen.”

“Say,” broke in Jack Benson, thoughtfully, “do you remember the two holes in the right side of the fellow’s coat?”

“Yes, I do,” rejoined the boatbuilder.

“Probably he’s the same fellow.  A bullet, passing through his coat, might have made those two holes without touching his body.”

“Jove!” muttered Farnum.  “Yes; that’s so.  I believe your guess is wholly right, Jack.”

“Tell me about that,” begged Mr. Pollard.

“One thing at a time, please,” urged the boatbuilder.  “Now, if that young rascal had the drawings, did he turn them over to Don Melville before the arranged meeting that I saw?  For our prisoner had no such papers aboard him when I searched him.”

“That will have to be solved,” muttered Jack, seriously.  “We can’t afford to have those secret drawings in the possession of the rival submarine boat builders.”

“But what about your other news, Dave?” interposed Mr. Farnum.

“This telegram!” burst, eagerly, from the inventer, producing a yellow envelope.  “It was addressed to you, but in your absence I opened it.”

While Jack struck a match, the boatbuilder read with feverish interest showing in his eyes.