So Jack spent his time at leisure aboard the submarine.  Eph and Hal listened enviously to the recital of his night’s adventure.

“And all that time,” grumbled Hal, “I was taking an extra nap in the starboard stateroom.”

“And I was reading a great story about the boy scouts of the War of 1812,” sighed Eph, regretfully.  “Doing that when something real was happening within a long stone’s throw of here.  Oh, Jack, Jack!  Why didn’t you tip us off?”

“If I had only suspected that something was up, I would have done it,” Jack replied.  “I tell you, fellows, there was a time, when those Italians were marching me through the woods, that a little company of my own sort would have been mighty pleasant.  I couldn’t be very sure, at one time last night, of whether you’d ever see me again.  But I had the conviction that, if I tried to put up a useless fight against those two powerful fellows, there’d be sure to be a new captain aboard the ‘Pollard.’”

It was well along in the evening when Mr. Farnum received a telegram from Washington, informing him that a board of three Naval officers, provided with proper credentials, would arrive in Dunhaven on the next morning but one.

The boatbuilder came promptly on board the submarine with the news, adding, earnestly: 

“Don’t you boys leave this boat unguarded for an instant until after the trial trip is over.  Mr. Melville will very likely hear about this and I’m not sure he’d hesitate to disable our boat if he could.  At the rate at which work is going on at his yard his boat may be finished before our second submarine is ready for demonstration.  It would be greatly to his interest to have a boat to show the Government first, especially if he now has the plans of our automatic closing device.”

It turned out that the suspicion of Mr. Melville receiving the news of the coming trial trip was wholly correct.  The next morning that capitalist called at Jacob Farnum’s office.

“Farnum,” he announced, “I’ve decided that, in order to heal all breaches, and also to make what is very likely to be a good investment for myself, I’ll be ready to put in all the money desired with you, and on what I think will be your own terms.”

“Of course I feel greatly obliged to you,” rejoined the boatbuilder, with evident sarcasm.  “But to put money into this enterprise, Mr. Melville, would be to encourage, needlessly, competition with your own submarine building.”

“Oh, we can merge the two yards, Mr. Farnum,” responded the capitalist, with a wave of his hand.

“Some little time ago, Mr. Melville, I would have been very greatly pleased with your offer.  Now, Mr. Emerson stands ready with hundreds of thousands of dollars.  He knows that a trial trip is being arranged for the Government, and he stands ready to act by the result.  If we can sell our first boat to the Government he stands ready to turn over all the money we can possibly use.”