“I understand,” said the night watchman, nodding.

“That’s all, then, and thank you.”

Jack Benson hastily rejoined the others on the sidewalk

“I don’t believe, Mr. Truax, it will be worth your while to come here earlier than eight in the morning.  Better go to the hotel and tie up to a good sleep.  Good night.”

“Say, why did you take such a dislike to the fellow?” queried Eph, as the three submarine boys strolled on up the street, Truax following slowly at some distance in the rear.

“I didn’t take a dislike to him,” Jack replied, opening his eyes wide.

“You choked him of mighty short, then.”

“If it looked that way, then I’m sorry,” Benson protested, in a tone of genuine regret.  “All I wanted to make plain was that I couldn’t pass him on to our precious old boat without Mr. Farnum’s order.”

Truax plodded slowly along behind the submarine boys, a cunning look in the man’s eyes as he stared after Jack Benson.

“You’re a slick young man, or else a wise one,” muttered Truax.  “But I think I’m smart enough to take it out of you!”

Nor did Sam Truax go to the hotel.  He had his own plans for this evening—­plans that boded the submarine boys no good.

The three boys strolled easily about town, getting a hot soda or two, and, finally, drifting into a moving picture show that had opened recently in Dunhaven.  This place they did not leave until the show was over.  They were halfway home when Captain Jack remembered that he had left behind him a book that he had bought earlier in the evening.

“You fellows keep right on down to the yard.  I’ll hurry back, get the book and overtake you,” he proposed.

Jack ran back, but already the little theatre was closed.

“I’m out that book, then, if we sail in the morning,” he muttered, as he trudged along after his friends.

On the way toward the water front Benson had to pass a vacant lot surrounded by a high board fence on a deserted street.  He had passed about half way along the length of the fence, when a head appeared over the top followed by a pair of arms holding a small bag of sand.  Down dropped the bag, striking Jack Benson on the top of the head, sending him unconscious to the ground.

CHAPTER IV

MR. FARNUM OFFERS ANOTHER GUESS

Close at hand there was a loose board in the fence.  Through this Sam Truax thrust his head, peering up and down the street.  Not another soul was in sight.

With a chuckle Truax stepped through the hole in the fence.  Swiftly he gathered up the young submarine captain, bearing him through the aperture and dropping him on the ground behind the fence.  At the same time he took with him the small bag of sand.

“Knocked you out, but I don’t believe you’ll be unconscious long,” mused Truax, standing over his young victim, regarding him critically.  “There wasn’t steam enough in the blow to hurt you for long.  You’re sturdy, following the sea all the time, as you do.”