Messrs. Rhinds and Radwin were on shore, at the hotel, but they had received word of the departure of four of the rival boats, and knew the reason for that departure.

“This,” cried John Rhinds, getting up and pacing the room, while he smoked fast, “is the stage at which the game gets on my nerves!”

“Yes,” agreed Radwin, though he spoke rather lazily.  “It’s fine to have only one rival left in the field, but it’s discouraging to know that we’re number two, and that the other fellow holds number one rank.  Rhinds, I wonder if we can really get an order for any of our boats from the government.  I hope that we can, at least, get rid of the three that we have on hand.”

“Three?” uttered the president of the Rhinds Submarine Company, scornfully.  “I’m going to sell the government at least a dozen!”

As he spoke, he struck his clenched fists together angrily.

“How?” asked Radwin.

“And, on the strength of having the United States’ order for a dozen boats, I’m certain then, of being able to place orders for two or three dozen more boats with foreign governments.”

“How are you going to place the order for a dozen with the United States government?” insisted Fred Radwin.

“How?  By the very simple method of getting all the Congressmen and Senators of our state at work.  Fred, I have just about all of the Congressional delegation from our state pestering the Secretary of the Navy until we get our order.  The Congressmen from our own state will be glad to see me get the business.”

“Why?”

“Don’t be a simpleton, Radwin!  If we have to build a dozen submarines, we have to hire a lot of workmen, don’t we?  And I’m always careful to engage workmen who have votes.  Besides, such a volume of business would turn loose a lot of new capital and wages in our part of the state.  Oh, we can trust our Congressmen, Fred, to get us a big slice of this submarine business.”

“I hope our miss-fire trick, out at sea day before yesterday, won’t hurt our chances any,” whispered Fred Radwin, musingly.  “Why did you do that fool thing?” whispered Rhinds, with a dark look at his secretary.

“Why did I fail, you mean?” hissed Radwin.  “Oh, don’t try to throw any reproaches at me, now.  You were willing enough to help me send that torpedo over at the ‘Hastings.’”

“I can’t understand how the torpedo missed,” shivered Rhinds.

“Well, you were at the wheel,” retorted Radwin in a low undertone.  “You held the nose of the boat true enough, too, I guess, when I let the torpedo drive.  But that infernal Jack Benson was on the watch, and he saw the thing coming.  Of course he stopped his boat and put the reverse clutch on just in the nick of time.  That young Benson always appears to be in the nick of time!”

“So much so,” wavered John Rhinds, “that I’m beginning to feel decidedly superstitious about that young fellow.  He’ll land us, yet, in something, and ruin us.”