Chapter 8. The Prize Trip On The "Dodger"

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_ CHAPTER VIII. THE PRIZE TRIP ON THE "DODGER"

The following afternoon, at the hour for instruction in the machine shops, the entire first class was marched down to the basin, where the "Dodger" lay. Squad by squad the midshipmen were taken on board the odd-looking little craft that was more at home beneath the waves than on them.

While the exact place and scale of importance of submarine war craft has not been determined as yet, boats of the Pollard type are certainly destined to play a tremendously important part in the Naval wars of the future. Hence all of the midshipmen were deeply interested in what they saw and were told.

Some of these first classmen were twenty-four years of age, others from twenty to twenty-two. Hence, with many of them, there was some slight undercurrent of feeling over the necessity for taking instruction from such very youthful instructors as Jack Benson, Hal Hastings and Eph Somers.

Had any of this latter trio been inclined to put on airs there might have been some disagreeable feeling engendered in the breasts of some of the middies. But Jack and his associates were wholly modest, pleasant and helpful.

Beginning on the following day, it was announced, the "Dodger" would take a squad of six midshipmen down Chesapeake Bay for practical instruction in submarine work, both above and below the surface of the water. This instruction would continue daily, with squads of six midshipmen on board, until all members of the first class had received thorough drilling.

"That's going to be a mighty pleasant change from the usual routine here," whispered Farley in Dave's ear.

"It surely will," Darrin nodded. "It will be even better fun than football."

"With no chance for the Army to beat us out on this game," Farley replied slyly.

At last it came the turn of Dave, Dan, Farley, Page, Jetson and Wolgast to go aboard the "Dodger."

"Gentlemen," announced Lieutenant Jack Benson, "Ensign Somers will show you all that is possible about the deck handling and the steering below the surface, and then Ensign Hastings will explain the mechanical points of this craft. When both are through, if you have any questions. I will endeavor to answer them."

In a few minutes the "showing" had been accomplished.

"Any questions, gentlemen?" inquired Lieutenant Benson.

Dave was ready with three; Farley had four and Jetson two. Lieutenant Benson looked particularly pleased as he answered. Then, at last, he inquired:

"What's your name?"

"Darrin, sir," Dave replied.

The other midshipmen present were asked their names, and gave them.

"Gentlemen," continued youthful Lieutenant Benson, "this present squad impresses me as being more eager and interested in submarines than any of the squads that have come aboard."

"Thank you, sir," Dave replied for himself and the others.

"Are you really exceptionally interested?" inquired Benson.

"I think we are, sir," Dave responded.

"On Saturday of each week, as long as the 'Dodger' is at Annapolis," went on Benson, "we intend to take out one of the best squads. We shall drop down the Bay, not returning, probably before Sunday noon. Would you gentlemen like to be the first squad to go on the longer cruise---next Saturday?"

The faces of all six midshipmen shone with delight for an instant, until Dave Darrin answered mournfully:

"It would give us great delight, sir, but for one thing. We play Creighton University next Saturday, and we are all members of the Navy team."

"None of you look forward to having to go to hospital during the progress of the game, do you?" inquired Lieutenant Benson with a slight smile.

"Hardly, sir."

"Then the 'Dodger' can sail an hour after the finish of the game, and perhaps stay out a little later on Sunday. Will that solve the problem?"

"Splendidly, sir!"

"Then I will use such persuasion as I can with the superintendent to have you six men detailed for the Saturday-Sunday detail this week," promised Lieutenant Benson. "And now I will write your names down, in order that there may be no mistake about the squad that reports to me late next Saturday afternoon. Dismissed!"

As Dave and his friends stepped ashore even Dan Dalzell had a more gracious estimate of "that kid, Benson."

That night, and for several nights afterwards, the "Dodger" and her officers furnished a fruitful theme for discussion among the midshipmen. As the "Dodger" was believed to be the very finest submarine craft anywhere among the navies of the world, the interest grew rather than waned.

Dave and Dan, as well as their four friends, began to look forward with interest to the coming cruise down the bay.

"Fellows," warned Wolgast, "you'll have to look out not to get your heads so full of submarines that you lose to Creighton on Saturday."

"On the contrary," retorted Dave, "you can look for us to push Creighton all over the field. We'll do it just as a sheer vent to our new animal spirits."

That was a decidedly boastful speech for Dave Darrin, yet on Saturday he made good, or helped tremendously, for Creighton retired from the field with the small end of an eight-to-two score.

"Now, hustle on the dressing," roared Wolgast, as they started to un-tog and get under the showers, after the football victory.

"What's the need of rush?" demanded Peckham one of the subs.

"It doesn't apply to you," Wolgast shot back over his shoulder, as he started on a run to the nearest shower. "I'm talking only to to-night's submarine squad."

The six midshipmen found many an envious look shot in their direction.

"Those extremely youthful officers seem to have a bad case of spoons on you six," remarked Peckham almost sourly.

"Show some nearly human intelligence, and maybe you'll get a chance at one of the Saturday cruises, Peckham," called back Farley, as he began to towel down vigorously.

Dave and his friends were the first men of the team to be dressed and ready to leave.

"Give our best regards to Davy Jones!" shouted one of the football men.

"If you go down to the bottom of Chesapeake Bay, and can't get up again, don't do anything to spoil the fishing," called another middy.

By this time Dave Darrin and his mates were outside and on their way to the basin.

Lieutenant Jack Benson was the only one of the "Dodger's" officers on view when the midshipmen arrived alongside. They passed aboard, saluting Benson, who returned their salutes without affectation.

"All here?" said Benson. "Mr. Somers, tumble the crew on deck!"

"Shall we go below, sir?" inquired Dave, again saluting.

"Not until so directed," Benson replied. "I wish you to see every detail of the boat handling."

At Lieutenant Jack's command the crew threw the hawsers aboard and soon had them out of the way.

Benson gave the starting signal to Eph Somers.

No sooner had the "Dodger's" hawsers been cast aboard than the submarine torpedo boat headed out. It was a get-away swift enough---almost to take the breath of the midshipmen.

"You see, gentlemen," Lieutenant Benson explained quietly, "we act on the theory that in submarine work every second has its value when in action. So we have paid a good deal of attention to the speedy start. Another thing that you will note is that, aboard so small a craft, it is important that, as far as is possible, the crew act without orders for each move. What do you note of the crew just now?"

"That they performed their work with lightning speed, sir, and that they have already gone below, without waiting for orders to that effect."

"Right," nodded Jack Benson. "Had the crew been needed on deck I would have ordered them to remain. As I did not so order they have gone below, where they are out of the way until wanted. A craft that fights always on the surface of the water should have some men of the crew always on deck. But here on a submarine the men would be in the way, and we want a clear range of view all over the deck, and seaward, in order that we may see everything that it is possible to see. Mr. Darrin, Mr. Dalzell and Mr. Farley will remain on deck with me. The other young gentlemen will go below to study the workings of the engines under Ensign Hastings."

Though it was a true pleasure trip for all six of the midshipmen, it was one of hard, brisk instruction all the time.

"Here, you see," explained Lieutenant Jack, leading his trio just forward of the conning tower, "we have a deck wheel for use when needed. Mr. Somers, give up the wheel."

"Aye, aye, sir," and Ensign Eph, who had been sitting at the tower wheel since the start, moved away and came on deck.

"Mr. Darrin, take the wheel," directed Benson. "Are you familiar with the Bay?"

"Not sufficiently, sir, to be a pilot."

"Then I will give you your directions from time to time. How does this craft mind her wheel?"

"With the lightest touch, sir, that I ever saw in a wheel."

"The builders of the 'Dodger' have been working to make the action of the steering wheel progressively lighter with each boat that they have built. Men on a submarine craft must have the steadiest nerves at all times, and steady nerves do not go hand in hand with muscle fatigue."

Lieutenant Jack walked to the entrance to the conning tower. "Mallock!" he called down to one of the crew.

"Aye, aye, sir."

"My compliments to Mr. Hastings, and ask him to crowd the speed of the boat gradually."

"Aye, aye, sir."

The "Dodger" had been moving down the bay at a ten-knot pace. Suddenly she gave a jump that caused Midshipman Dave Darrin to wonder. Then the submarine settled down to a rushing sixteen-knot gait."

"I didn't know, sir," ventured Farley, "that submarines could go quite so fast."

"The old types didn't," Lieutenant Jack answered. "However, on the surface a capable submarine must be able to show a good deal of speed."

"For getting away, sir?"

"Oh, no. Naturally, when a submarine is pursued she can drop under the surface and leave no trail. But suppose a single submarine to be guarding a harbor, unaided by other fighting craft. A twenty-or twenty-two knot battleship is discovered, trying to make the harbor. Even if the battleship steams away the submarine should be capable of following. The engines of the 'Dodger,' in favorable weather, can drive her at twenty-six knots on the surface."

"She's as fast as a torpedo-boat destroyer, then, sir," hazarded Dan.

"Yes; and the submarine needs to be as fast. With the improvement of submarine boats the old style of torpedo boat will pass out altogether. Then, if the destroyer is retained the submarine must be capable of attacking the destroyer on equal terms. Undoubtedly, after a few years more the river gunboat and the submarine torpedo boat will be the only small fighting craft left in the navies of the leading powers of the world."

Even while this brief conversation was going on the speed of the "Dodger" had begun to increase again. Ensign Hasting's head showed through the opening in the conning tower.

"We're going now at a twenty-knot clip, sir," Hal reported. "Do you wish any more speed?"

"Not in Chesapeake Bay; navigating conditions are not favorable."

"Very good, sir." Hal vanished below. Never very talkative, Hal was content to stand by his engines in silence when there was no need of talking.

From time to time, as the craft sped on down the bay, Lieutenant Benson glanced at the chronometer beside the deck wheel.

"You don't have the ship's bell struck on this craft, sir?" inquired Midshipman Darrin.

"Only when at anchor or in dock," replied Lieutenant Jack Benson. "A submarine's natural mission is one of stealth, and it wouldn't do to go about with a clanging of gongs. Now, let me have the wheel, Mr. Darrin. You gentlemen go to the conning tower and stand so that you can hear what goes on below."

While the three midshipmen stood as directed the speed of the "Dodger" slackened.

Then, after a space of a full minute, the submarine returned to her former twenty-knot speed.

"Did you hear any clanging or jangling of a signal bell or gong when the speeds were changed?" questioned Lieutenant Benson.

"No, sir," Darrin answered.

"That was because no bells were sounded," explained Benson. "From deck or conning tower signals can be sent that make no noise. On a dark night, or in a fog, we could manoeuvre, perhaps, within a stone's throw of an enemy's battleship, and the only sound that might betray our presence would be our wash as we moved along. Take the wheel, Mr. Farley."

Then, after giving Farley a few directions as to the course to follow, Lieutenant Benson added:

"Take command of the deck, Mr. Farley."

"Humph!" muttered Dan. "The lieutenant doesn't seem to be afraid that we'll run his craft into any danger."

"He knows as well as we do what would happen to me, if there were any disaster, and I had to explain it before a court of inquiry," laughed Midshipman Farley. "Hello! Who slowed the boat down?"

Dan had done it, unobserved by his comrades, in an irrepressible spirit of mischief. He had reached over, touching the indicator, and thus directing the engine-room man to proceed at less speed. Dalzell, however, did not answer.

"I'd like to know if the speed were slackened intentionally," fussed Farley. "Darry, do you mind going below and inquiring?"

"Not in the least," smiled Dave, "but is it good Naval etiquette for one midshipman to use another midshipman as a messenger?"

"Oh, bother etiquette!" grunted Farley. "What would you really do if you were in command of the deck---as I am---and you wanted to ask a question, with the answer down below?"

"I'll go to the conning tower and summon a man on deck, if you wish," Dave offered.

Farley nodded, so Dave stepped over to the conning tower, calling down:

"One man of the watch---on deck!"

Seaman Mallock was on deck in a hurry, saluting Midshipman Farley.

"Mallock, report to Lieutenant Benson, or the next ranking officer who may be visible below. Report with my compliments that the speed of the craft has slackened, and inquire whether that was intentional."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Mallock was soon back, saluting.

"Engine tender reports, sir, that he slowed down the speed in obedience to the indicator."

"But I-----" Farley began. Then he checked himself abruptly, noting out of the corner of his eye that Dan Dalzell had wandered over to the rail and stood looking off to seaward. If Dan were responsible for the slowing down of the speed, and admitted it under questioning, then Farley, under the regulations, would be obliged to report Dalzell, and that young man already had some demerits against his name.

"Oh, very good, then, Mallock," was Midshipman Farley's rather quick reply. "Who is the ranking officer visible below at present?"

"Ensign Somers, sir."

"Very good. My compliments to Mr. Somers, and ask at what speed he wishes to run."

Seaman Mallock soon returned, saluting.

"Ensign Somers' compliments sir, and the ensign replies that Mr. Farley is in command of the deck."

"Very good, then," nodded Midshipman Farley, and set the indicator at the twenty mark.

Ten minutes later Lieutenant Benson reappeared on deck. First of all he noted the "Dodger's" position. Then, as Ensign Eph and Mallock appeared, Benson announced:

"Gentlemen, you will come down to Supper now. Mr. Somers, you will take command of the deck."

"Very good, sir," Eph responded. "Mallock, take the wheel."

Lieutenant Benson seated himself at the head of the table, with Ensign Hastings on his right. The midshipmen filled the remaining seats.

"We're necessarily a little crowded on a craft of this size," explained Benson. "Also the service is not what it would be on a battleship. We can carry but few men, so the cook must also act as waiter."

At once a very good meal was set on the table, and all hands were busily eating when Eph Somers came down the stairs, saluted and reported:

"Sir, we are on the bottom of Chesapeake Bay, with our nose in the mud!" _

Read next: Chapter 9. The Treachery Of Morton

Read previous: Chapter 7. Dan's Eyes Jolt His Wits

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