The Boy Scouts for Uncle Sam

CHAPTER XI.
BARTON THE MACHINIST

An island, a sandy, scantily grown spot of land, shaped like a splash of gravy on a plate, loomed up over the Seneca's bow. On it stood a shed, two naked masts with wireless antennæ strung between them, and some tents, and that was all, except that, removed from the shed mentioned above, was a similar and larger structure. This second structure was built on piles right out over the sea, and as the coast of the island declined abruptly at this point, there was considerable water under its corrugated iron roof.

"So that's Barren Island?" asked Rob, who, with the boys and the two officers, was standing on the bridge of the Seneca regarding with the most intense interest that desolate spot of land.

Beyond it lay other islands equally barren, so that applicability of the name was not quite clear, while in the dim distance a faint blue line betokened the Carolina coast.

"Yes, that is Barren Island," nodded Lieutenant Murray; "and strange as it may seem, the hopes of the Naval Department are centered right at this moment on that sandy patch yonder."

"Seems queer, doesn't it?" commented Merritt.

"Queer but safe," smiled Ensign Hargreaves.

"I'm aching to get ashore," exploded Donald eagerly. "Is that a powerful wireless?"

"It is capable of sending up to three hundred miles on an average, and more under favorable conditions," was the reply.

"What's in that big shed?" demanded someone.

"That houses the Peacemaker. The shore shelves off abruptly and the submarine is housed under that roof in more than forty feet of water."

"And the other building?"

"A combination cook house and dining room."

"Shall we have lots to eat?" asked Tubby, his eyes glistening as he heard.

"Plenty, I hope," rejoined the ensign smiling. "There is an ample stock of provisions, and they will be received from the mainland as occasion requires."

"But how shall we reach the mainland?"

"In a powerful motor boat," was the reply.

"Say, this is going to be a regular picnic. I thought you chaps said hard work lay ahead of us," complained Donald.

"Don't worry," laughed Rob; "I guess we'll find lots to do."

"Never fear," struck in the ensign. "Besides the inventor of the Peacemaker, Mr. Danbury Barr, and ourselves, there will be only three trusted sailors, familiar with submarine work, to conduct the tests; so you see that you boys will have your time well occupied."

"Are those tents for us?" asked Paul Perkins interestedly.

"Why, no. You brought your own camping outfits with you. I shall sleep in one, Mr. Barr in another, while the third will be occupied by the sailor assistants."

"And they are already there?" asked Rob.

"Watch," smiled Lieutenant Murray.

He seized the whistle cord and blew three resounding blasts.

Instantly, from the large shed referred to as housing the submarine, four figures appeared, three wore sailor garb and the fourth, it could be seen, was in overalls and shirt sleeves.

They waved and the boys cheered.

"I guess we'll drop anchor right here and take you ashore in a boat," said Lieutenant Murray.

The necessary orders were given, the chain roared out, and the Seneca swung at anchor off Barren Island in twenty fathoms of water.

"Can we go down as deep as that in the Peacemaker?" inquired Rob.

"Deeper, much deeper," was the rejoinder; "we hope to go deeper than any submarine has ever been before."

"Whoof!" exclaimed Donald.

"What's the trouble?" inquired Merritt.

"Oh, nothing; only it makes a fellow feel kind of creepy, that's all," was the rejoinder.

No sooner had the anchor been dropped, than a scene of great activity ensued. The wireless operator of the Seneca was flashing signals back and forth with the shore station, and sailors were piling Boy Scout equipment into one of the boats while another was lowered for the passengers. Donald had his own outfit, it having been on board the Brigand when he transferred to the Seneca. Although he was the son of one of the richest men in the world, it in no wise differed from the other lads' outfits, except that it had not seen such hard service as theirs had been through.

At last all was ready, good-byes were said, and not without some regret the Boy Scouts left their kind friends of the Seneca behind. Ashore a warm welcome greeted them. Mr. Danbury Barr proved to be a tall, lean individual with a prominent, thin-bridged nose, and sharp, gray eyes with all the keenness of a hawk in them. His skin was burned a deep golden brown by his sojourn on the island while getting his craft in readiness for the tests. Like most inventors he had not much to say, but seemed to be agreeable and glad to see the newcomers.

The three sailors, as became them in the presence of an officer, stood respectfully back without saying anything, only drawing up and saluting. But this was not the case with a man who has not yet been mentioned. This was an individual named Luke Barton. He was Mr. Barr's expert machinist and mechanical superintendent. Rob took an instinctive dislike to the fellow. Not that there was anything actually repulsive about him. On the contrary, he was a well-set-up chap of about thirty-five, dark haired and mustached; but it was something shifty in the fellow's eyes that made Rob distrust him. This impression was not removed when he asked of Mr. Barr, in a voice by no means an undertone:

"What's this parcel of kids doing here? Looks like a Sunday school picnic."

Mr. Barr explained.

"Oh, a bunch of kid tin soldiers," he sneered, and strode off swinging a big monkey wrench. Right then and there Rob's instinctive dislike of the man crystallized into a feeling of distrust. He felt sure that the fellow had some reason to resent the presence of the Boy Scouts.

Mr. Barr made no comment on his assistant's remarks, doubtless not thinking that they had been overheard. In fact, the rest of the party, except Rob, had been standing at some little distance when the fellow uttered his sneering jibes.

CHAPTER XII.
THE SUBMARINE ISLAND

Under Mr. Barr's guidance the party toured the island. It was about half a mile across and slightly longer than its width. Coarse grass grew almost to the water's edge, and in the centre, where it rose in a cone-shaped formation, some stunted, wind-twisted bushes grew. Also on the summit was a driven well, which was formed of galvanized piping, and went down, so the boys were informed, for more than two hundred feet.

But to the lads of the Eagle Patrol the most interesting thing on the island was, of course, the shed that housed the submarine. This shed was open at both ends, and under its iron roof lay the submarine craft. Lying as it did, with only its rounded back showing above the surface of the water, it reminded the boys of a sleeping whale.

On the top of it, amidships, was the conning tower, with thick glass lenses for observation. From the conning tower also protruded the periscope, an instrument which enabled the operators of the craft to see the ocean about them even when submerged some twenty feet below the surface.

A stout rail ran around the top of the hull so as to allow the crew to walk along the slippery decks without danger of going overboard. But it was the interior that the boys were most anxious to see, and a glad rush followed when Mr. Barr invited them on board. Access to the conning tower was gained by a gang plank running from the side of the shed. Reaching the conning tower, with a press of eager lads about him, Mr. Barr threw open a metal door in the top of the observation post, and climbed inside. The boys needed no invitation to follow him.

Inside they found themselves in a compartment much resembling the wheelhouse of an ordinary surface craft, except that there were various instruments to show submergence, and the quality and pressure of the air, and devices for handling the engines; for one of the features of Mr. Barr's invention was that it could be handled by one man once the engines were going.

Leaving the conning tower, they descended a steel ladder into the heart of the submarine. The centre was occupied by a comfortably fitted-up room which contained, among other things, a small library and a phonograph. The inventor switched on a button and the "cabin," as it may be called, was instantaneously flooded with a soft light, bright but not glaring. In the bulkheads at either end of this compartment were doors, steel riveted and solid looking. The inventor explained that beyond the stern one were located the engine room and crew's quarters, while on the other side of the forward portal lay the sleeping quarters, galley or kitchen, and bathroom. Beyond these again came the torpedo room, which contained the machinery for launching the death-dealers. Each of these was inspected in turn, the boys being delighted with the compactness and neatness of everything.

"Now," said the inventor, "we will visit the engine room." Paul Perkins and Hiram looked interested; machinery was one of their hobbies.

The Peacemaker carried two sets of engines, electrical for running under the surface, and gasoline for use above water. The engines were fitted tandem-wise, and to their shafts were attached twin screws of a novel design that gave great speed and controlled the submarine easily. The gasoline engines were of fifteen hundred horse-power each, and the electrical had a trifle lower capacity.

In the engine room, too, were the powerful pumps used for emptying or filling the submarine's submergence tanks as it was desired to rise or descend. Aft of the engine room came the gasoline tanks, the storage batteries, and some minor machinery, such as an ice-making plant, air compressor, and so on. In the engine room, too, was a comfortable upholstered lounge for the engineer on duty to rest upon. Several dials and gauges were on the walls of this compartment, enabling the engineer to know at all times under just what conditions the submarine was proceeding.

It was in the engines themselves that the inventor had excelled all other types of submarines, as well as in the peculiar attributes of the hull. Extra tanks were provided whereby, in the event of the main supply of gasoline giving out at any time, the Peacemaker could be run quite a distance on those alone.

"How long could you stay below the surface?" asked Rob, as they came back into the main cabin once more. There they took their seats on broad leather divans which at night time could be converted into beds or bunks by pulling a lever which caused them to turn over and reveal a snug resting place.

"I have not yet made an exhaustive test of that," rejoined Mr. Barr, "but I estimate that we could remain below, if necessary, forty-eight hours."

"Forty-eight hours!" gasped Rob incredulously.

The inventor nodded calmly.

"My air purifying device makes this supposable. I have a plan by which fresh, pure air is almost manufactured. At the same time the foul air is forced out."

"I suppose you boys are aching to take a trip," laughed Ensign Hargreaves.

"Aching is no word for it," Rob assured him.

"Well, you may have a chance to-morrow," said Mr. Barr; "I am going to test out the whole craft thoroughly, and you boys can come along if I go."

For the next five minutes nothing could be heard but enthusiastic shouts. The boys fairly went wild with delight at the prospect of a trip below the ocean's surface. Soon afterward the party emerged from the submarine in time to see the Seneca making out to sea on her return journey. She carried letters from the boys to their families, as they were by no means sure when they would get the next opportunity of sending a letter north.

The next hour was occupied in making camp. Then the Stars and Stripes and the Eagle banner went up. Donald had no Wolf banner with him, but above his tent he hung up something that resembled a wolf's head, painted on a bit of canvas.

"Looks more like a chicken than a wolf," scornfully sniffed Tubby when he saw it.

"You couldn't think of anything but something good to eat, could you?" was Donald's crushing reply.

By the time camp had been made and everything placed neatly in order, Andy Bowles, on Ensign Hargreaves' order, sounded the dinner call.

"That's the call that Tubby never forgets," laughed Rob, as the stout lad cantered off in the direction of the combination dining hall and cook house above mentioned.

They found a bare, pine table, scrubbed scrupulously clean and set with metal plates and cups. Lieutenant Hargreaves showed each boy to his seat, while he and the inventor sat at opposite ends of the board. The sailors, and the machinist who had impressed Rob so unfavorably, ate later.

The cook, a stout, good-natured looking negro, came bustling in with a huge bucket-like pan full of steaming soup. Tubby's eyes glistened as he saw it, and soon he was piling in prodigious quantities of it. The soup was followed by salt beef, potatoes, and other vegetables, and then came a big wedge of cocoanut pie.

"We get fresh meat fairly often," explained Mr. Barr, "but the launch has not been to the mainland recently, so we have to get along on what sailors call 'Willie'."

"Isn't there game of any kind hereabouts?" asked Rob.

"Oh, yes. There are several shore birds of different varieties, but we have really been too busy of late to go after them. Now that you boys have come, however, you can take out my shot guns – I have three of them – and see what you can do as hunters."

"Are the shore birds good eating?" inquired Tubby with his mouth full of pie.

"Yes, Master Hopkins. Epicures, in fact, declare that there is no better dish than roasted plovers."

"I'll take one of the guns," declared Tubby, his eyes glistening, as, even his appetite satisfied for the while, he sank back in his chair.

As they filed out of the dining hall the negro cook announced to the sailors and the mechanic, by means of a big bell, that it was time for them to eat.

Rob, on his way to the camp, happened to pass by Luke Barton. He greeted the latter with a cheery nod.

"Going to eat, Barton?" he inquired.

The man glowered at him a minute, and then muttering something about "fresh kids eating up everything," he strode on toward the eating place.

"My gracious," exclaimed Tubby, who had witnessed the whole proceeding, "you and that fellow get along like a pair of panthers, don't you?"

CHAPTER XIII.
DOWN TO THE DEPTHS

It was the following morning, a bright, clear day, with a clean swept sky overhead, and seaward, the waves whipping up into smart little whitecaps under a brisk breeze. Breakfast was over, the Boy Scouts' bugle had sounded an assembly call, and now all were eagerly mustered about the submarine shed awaiting Mr. Barr's arrival and permission to go on board the Peacemaker.

True to his promise, the inventor had decided to make the boys participants in the trial trip of the slate-colored diving boat. Presently he appeared, accompanied by Ensign Hargreaves. Ten minutes later the chatting, laughing party was on board the Peacemaker, and half an hour after that she was pronounced ready for the start. Mr. Barr took his place in the conning tower with Ensign Hargreaves beside him. Barton was in the engine room, sullen and uncommunicative as usual. Rob and Merritt were on deck with one of the sailors, delegated to the duty of casting off the diving boat's lines.

At last came the word from the conning tower:

"Cast off."

Rob seized a rope and cast off from the stern bitts, while the sailor performed the same operation at the bow.

"Must we come inside now?" inquired Rob, through the open hatch of the conning tower.

"Not yet; unless you wish to. I will notify you before we dive," was Mr. Barr's reply.

"Goodness, I hope he doesn't forget," said Rob laughingly, as the inventor turned on a switch and started the engines. The cigar-shaped form of the craft trembled as the powerful twin propellers beat the water. Then, handling as perfectly as a catboat, she backed slowly out of the shed and on to the open sea.

Once outside the shed, her helmsman headed the craft about and made directly east. To Rob and Merritt, standing on the deck, the sensation was a thrilling one. Faster and faster the craft was driven till great clouds of spray compelled the two lads to seek refuge in the conning tower.

Inside the boat the hum of machinery and the vibration of the powerful engines could be plainly distinguished. Rob glanced at the speed indicator on the steel wall of the "pilot house."

"Twenty-five knots! Phew! that's going some," he gasped.

"She can make thirty-two on the surface and twenty-one under water," said the inventor calmly.

As he spoke, he drew a lever toward him and the Peacemaker appeared to leap forward like a horse under the lash.

Rob watched the handle of the indicator as it sped slowly around the dial. Up and up it crept till it stopped at thirty-two knots and a half.

"Jove! Barr," exclaimed the ensign, "this is the wonder craft of the century."

"I think I could get even more speed out of her, but I don't wish to strain the engines," was the confident reply.

"This is fast enough for me, thank you," said Rob to Merritt in an undertone.

From the conning tower lens the Peacemaker appeared to be rushing between two solid walls of water, so great was the quantity of spray she threw as she was remorselessly driven through the choppy sea. Yet the vibration was not nearly as bad as might have been expected.

"Let's go below and take a look at the engine room," said Merritt.

"All right; but I'll ask Mr. Barr's permission first," was Rob's rejoinder.

This was readily obtained, and the two boys went below. They found their comrades gathered in the large central cabin, excitedly discussing the novelty of their voyage. Passing them, the young leader and his lieutenant made their way back into the machinery department. Barton glowered at them as they entered.

"Well, what d'ye want?" he asked gruffly.

"Merely to have a look at the engines," said Rob.

"Aw, what do you know about engines?" growled the man. "You ain't got no business in here."

"We have Mr. Barr's permission," rejoined Rob in a calm, even tone, determined not to let the fellow make him angry.

"Well, take a look around and get out quick," was the ungracious reply of the surly fellow.

Rob thought it best not to answer him, and arm in arm he and Merritt wandered among the flashing, smoothly working machinery, which, despite its size and power, was almost noiseless. Whatever his failings might be in the way of politeness, Barton must have been a good engineer, the boys decided, for every bit of metal and paintwork about the engines was polished to a brilliant finish, and the engine room was as neat as a new pin.

Rob was examining the powerful pumps when his eye suddenly fell on a bit of paper lying on the floor. He picked it up, prompted by he knew not what instinct, and found that it was covered with minute sketches, apparently of machinery. The sketches were numbered and lettered, as if they had been "keyed" for the purpose of making the diagram clearer.

He was still examining the sketches when there was a swift step behind him and a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Rob, facing about, looked into Barton's face. The engineer's countenance was livid, his eyes fairly blazed.

"Give me that paper, you young jackanapes!" he exclaimed, "and then get out of here – quick!"

"As to giving you the paper, here you are," said Rob, quietly handing the engineer the mechanical sketches. "If I'd known they were yours, I'd have returned them to you at once. I must ask you, however, to be a little less rough in your manners. I don't know what harm we've ever done you, that you should show such a dislike for us."

"Bah!" growled Barton as he turned away, thrusting the paper into a pocket of his jumper.

After this incident neither of the boys cared to remain in the engine room, and soon joined their companions in the main cabin.

They found them chatting and laughing over different boyish topics, and Merritt joined in the fun.

But Rob, usually talkative and bright, was strangely silent. He found himself musing over the incident of the scrap of paper covered with mechanical sketches. Why had Barton become so agitated when the boy picked it up? What was there about the affair to excite the man so strangely?

Suddenly into the boy's mind there flashed a startling suspicion. But so grave was the idea that he dismissed it, or rather tried to; but with all his efforts the idea kept recurring like a dominant note in a piece of music. Rob decided to be on the watch and try to verify or disprove his suspicion, which was nothing more nor less than an idea that Barton was a traitor to his employer, and was also in the service of some powerful interests striving to get a grip on the secrets of the Peacemaker.

"That man will bear watching," decided Rob.

Scarcely had he come to this conclusion when Mr. Barr shouted down from the conning tower:

"I'm going to dive!"

The hearts of all the lads beat perceptibly quicker at the words.

They were about to descend into the unknown regions beneath the surface of the ocean, down into the dark waters where men's souls are put to a supreme test.