“That trail would probably lead straight through the Melvilles,” said Hal bitterly.

“No, don’t do that—­yet,” replied Pollard.

“Mr. Farnum may be away on legitimate business,” added Jack slowly.

Hal and Jack rowed Mr. Pollard ashore.  After bidding the inventor good-bye, the two youths decided to go to the shipyard.  As they were about to enter the office they were accosted by a man who was coming out.  He asked them if they were in Mr. Farnum’s employ.

“Yes, sir,” Jack answered.

“Can you tell me where he is?  The office force could give me no information.”

“Mr. Farnum is away at present,” said Jack.

“I know that!  Where is he?”

“Why should I tell a stranger about my employer’s business?” asked Jack sharply.

“Here’s my card.”  The man was a Mr. Stevenson, the head of a firm of ship’s steel jobbers.  “Here’s a bill for twenty-five thousand dollars, and Farnum seems to have disappeared.  I can sell this at face value, but I don’t want to.”

“Give Mr. Farnum a chance, Mr. Stevenson,” pleaded Jack.  “We can guess who is willing to buy that bill from you—­for a bonus.  The man will be as eager to buy next week as this.”

The man looked shrewdly into the eyes of the two boys for a moment, then, with a shrug of his shoulders, turned away, saying: 

“I guess this can wait awhile.”

The boys, after a brief call in the office, went on to town.  Mr. Melville was fond of horses, and still drove a handsome pair.

“There comes Don Melville in his father’s carriage.  I don’t wonder they hang on to it.  Those horses are beauties,” remarked Hal.

The carriage stopped and Don jumped out.

“Say, you muckers, things are happening and you won’t be needed now on the ‘Pollard.’”

“Really?” drawled Jack indifferently.

Hal could not summon indifference, or the appearance of it.  He said contemptuously: 

“Having helped a deserving young man to escape from jail, you’ll probably put him on the ‘Pollard.’”

Don flushed angrily and turned to the coachman, a brutal looking fellow.

“Johnson, chastise the young puppy!”

Johnson jumped down and raised his whip.

“Give it to them both!” yelled Don.

Just then Grant Andrews, the foreman in the submarine shed, having come up in time to hear and see what was taking place, sprang between the boys and the coachman.  He crashed his fist into the man’s face, and thus disposed of him, then grabbed the whip and brought it down on Don Melville’s shoulders.

“Oh, you’ll pay for this!” yelled Don.

“Then I may as well get the most out of it,” retorted Andrews, and again brought down the whip, this time coiling it around Don’s legs.

Don, seeing a grinning crowd about them and stinging with physical pain and humiliation, turned and sprang into the carriage.  Johnson was already there, and they hurried away.