Home > Authors Index > H. Irving Hancock > Dave Darrin's Fourth Year at Annapolis > This page
Dave Darrin's Fourth Year at Annapolis, a fiction by H. Irving Hancock |
||
Chapter 11. A Quarter's Worth Of Hope |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XI. A QUARTER'S WORTH OF HOPE "Until some one can think of something else, I'm going to keep on trying the hopeless thing and endeavoring to make this old, thin plate work," declared Hal Hastings, who was still bent over the motor, studying it intently. Benson had turned back to examine the work, after tossing the coin away, but just as suddenly he glanced forward again. At the extreme forward end of the engine room of the "Dodger" was another bench. Here were a vise and other heavier tools. On the floor under this bench were stowed many mechanical odds and ends---pieces of wood, coils of rope, even a bundle of tent-pegs, though nothing was visible of a metallic nature. "You fellows keep at work," Jack Benson shot back suddenly over his shoulder. "Where you going?" demanded Eph. "Forward." That much was evident, but Jack was now down on hands and knees carefully yet feverishly moving the wooden articles, cordage and such things from under the forward bench. "What are you doing?" called Eph. "Go ahead with your work---there's no time to be lost," replied Lieutenant Jack. "Hold this a moment, Eph," Hal Hastings requested, and Somers's attention was forced back to the motor. Sc-cratch! Flare! Jack Benson was using matches under that work bench, now that be had made some clear space there. "I wonder if Jack has gone clean daffy?" half chuckled Somers under his breath. "What are you talking about?" Hastings demanded. "Jack's lighting matches up forward, under the other bench." "What if he is?" "Maybe he thinks he can explode some gasoline and blow us to the surface." "Quit your nonsense," returned Hal almost angrily, "and help me with this job." "I'm waiting to see if Jack is going to let out a maniac yell," grimaced Eph Somers. "Quit your-----" "Wow! Whoop!" uttered young Benson excitedly. "Never tell me again that it's unlucky to throw money away! Whoop!" "What did I tell you?" demanded Eph. "If Jack's making a noise like that," retorted Hastings, as be straightened up and wheeled about, "he's got a mighty good reason for it." "Of course. Every lunatic has loads of good reasons for anything he does," muttered Eph. "Look here, fellows!" ordered Jack Benson, almost staggering as he approached them. "Great Dewey! Am I going crazy, too?" muttered Eph, staring hard. "What I think I see in Jack's hands are some of the missing copper plates." "It's exactly what you do see," announced Jack Benson, his face beaming. "But how---" "How they came to be there I don't know," Benson replied. "But when I threw away your quarter, Eph, it rolled under the bench. There wasn't supposed to be anything metallic under the bench, but I felt almost, sure that I had heard the silver strike against something metallic. Even then it seemed like a crazy notion to me. I didn't really expect to find anything, but some uncontrollable impulse urged me to go hustling under the bench. And so I found these duplicate plates, wedged in behind a lot of junk and right up against the partition." Hal Hastings, in the meantime, had taken one of the plates from Lieutenant Jack's hand, and was now quietly fitting it where it belonged on the motor. The six midshipmen, as soon as they realized what had happened, had sprung eagerly to the door of the engine room and stood peering in. Behind them were the cook and crew of the "Dodger." Presently Hal straightened up. "Sir," he said gravely, "I have hopes that if you test the compressed air apparatus you will find that this motor will do its share." Midshipmen and crew drew back as Jack and Eph came out of the engine room. Lieutenant Jack had his wrench in hand, and went back to his former post. "Young gentlemen," the commanding officer announced coolly, "we will take up, at the point where we were interrupted, the work of expelling the water from the compartments Are you ready, Mr. Hastings?" "Right by my post, sir," came from Hal. The six midshipmen gathered about Benson with a stronger sense of fascination than ever. Eph stepped past them to the stairs leading---to the little conning tower. With steady hand Jack Benson turned the wrench. The motor began to "mote" and there was a sense of being lifted. "Going up!" sang Ensign Eph, with a grin. Nor could Dan Dalzell help imitating the grin and calling out jovially: "Let me out at the top floor, please!" Having set the compressed air at work on the forward tanks, Jack Benson quickly shifted the wrench, and without a word, getting at work on the midship's compartments. Then the stern tanks were emptied. "May I come up, sir?" called Dan, his voice trembling with joy, at the foot of the stairs. "Very good," Eph sang back. "Room for only one, though," So Dan Dalzell hastily mounted the iron stairs until he found himself side by side with Eph Somers. For a few seconds all was inky darkness on the other side of the thick plate glass of the conning tower. Then, all in a flash, Dalzell caught sight of the twinkling stars as the dripping conning tower rose above the top of the water. "I have the honor to report that all's well again, and that we're on earth once more," Dan announced, as he came down the steps into the little cabin. "Attention, gentlemen," called Lieutenant Jack Benson, as soon as the "Dodger" was once more under way, her sea-going gasoline engines now performing the work lately entrusted to the electric motors. At the word "attention" the six midshipmen became rigidly erect, their hands dropping at their sides. "Gentlemen," continued Benson, "I realize that the late strain has been a severe one on us all. We of the 'Dodger' have been through the same sort of thing before. You midshipmen have not. If you feel, therefore, that you would prefer to have me head about and return to the Naval Academy I give you my word that I shall not think you weak-kneed for making the request." "Thank you, sir," replied Dave Darrin, "but we belong to the United States Navy and we have no business to suffer with nerves. If our wish alone is to be consulted, we prefer to finish the cruise as we would any other tour of duty." Dave's five comrades in the Brigade of Midshipmen loved him for that answer! _ |
||