“There’s just one thing about it, of course,” sighed Jacob Farnum, as the party left the table.  “If our youngsters are not on one of our boats, then we’ve got to lose the speed race to-day.  None of us can handle the boats the way they do.”

“Oh, you’ll find the boys all right on one of the boats,” asserted Fred Radwin, confidently.

The rivals went down to the water front together.  It was well after nine o’clock when they entered a shore boat.

“We’ll go out to your craft, first,” proposed Mr. Rhinds, “You’ll feel so much better, gentlemen, when you find your crew all right.  I’ll feel better, too, for I wouldn’t want to beat you unfairly to-day.”

Grant Andrews and two of his workmen stood on the platform deck of the “Benson,” leaning against the conning tower, when the shore boat came within hail.

“I am afraid to call out to Grant, and ask him,” faltered the shipbuilder.

“Then don’t do it,” returned Mr. Rhinds, sympathetically.  “Just wait until we get alongside, and you’ll see your young men popping out of the conning tower, rested and as bright as new buttons.”

A moment later the shore boat rounded in alongside.  Then, quite suddenly, the three submarine boys projected themselves through the manhole, and stood in full view on the platform deck.

“Eh?  Hey?” gasped John C. Rhinds, utterly nonplussed.

Fred Radwin’s lower jaw seemed to drop several inches.  He stared as though he were seeing ghosts, while a sickly, greenish pallor crept into his handsome face.

“By Jove, you were right, Rhinds!” gasped Jacob Farnum, turning.  “Thank you, old man, for keeping our courage up.”

“Good morning, Mr. Farnum!  Good Morning Mr. Pollard!” chorused the three submarine boys.  Then, favoring Rhinds and Radwin with brief glances: 

“Good morning—­gentlemen!”

“Gentlemen?” repeated Eph, disgustedly, under his breath.  “I think not!”

Though Rhinds and his agent speedily managed to look pleasant, they hadn’t gotten their spirits back when the shore boat pulled away.

Farnum and Pollard went hurriedly below, where Jack and his comrades followed.

“Jack!  Jack!  Thank you a million times!” gasped Farnum, seizing the young captain’s hand, then giving the other boys the same hearty gripping handshake.  “Your note that we got, this morning, gave us the information we needed and we knew just how to act.”

“And, from the way Rhinds and his fellow acted, when they caught sight of you boys,” added David Pollard, “we can form a pretty good idea of who tried to shanghai you three last night.”

“The scoundrels!” glowered Farnum, in righteous rage.

“Now, sir,” cried Jack, laughing savagely, “why did those fellows try such a trick on us?  Because they hoped, thereby, to beat us in the distance speed race to-day.”

“Of course,” nodded the shipbuilder, still savage.  “Rhinds builds fast submarines.  I know that, from the reports I’ve had.  Plainly, the Pollard boats are the only craft he feels much afraid of.”