women. "Won't you give us at least a hint?"

"I'd like to, immensely," smiled Captain Jack, "but I've always had
a great respect for Mr. Farnum's judgment."

"Good enough, captain," laughed the boat builder. "And now, signal for
the boat that is to put you aboard."

As the boat was coming in Captain Jack turned to the newspaper writers
to say:

"Ladies and gentlemen, the thing that is to be done to-day is something
that has never been done on any other boat than the 'Pollard.' If it
looks a bit dramatic, you will understand, of course, that that is a
means toward making it all the more impressive."

"Oh, dear, but you _are_ making me dreadfully inquisitive," complained
one of the newspaper women, plaintively.

Embarking in the shore boat, the "Pollard's" crew were soon aboard the
submarine. From the platform decks they waved their caps, then, one by
one, disappeared through the tower, the manhole cover being pulled down
after them.

"Are they going to take the boat out and submerge it?" asked one of the
correspondents.

"Yes," nodded Mr. Farnum.

"And what else--please?" asked the particularly impatient newspaper
woman.

Mr. Farnum smiled, then added:

"There they go, under electric power. Watch!"

By the time that the boat had gone a little more than a hundred feet one
of the correspondents called out:

"They're sinking!"

"All a part of the performance," stated Mr. Pollard.

Before some of the visiting journalists could quite realize it, the tip
of the conning tower had disappeared below the surface.

"That's all very interesting to look at," half shuddered one of the women.
"But what if they couldn't bring the boat up again?"

"The boat is built to go up or down, at need," Mr. Farnum assured her.
"Captain Benson has never had an accident yet."

So the group of some thirty newspaper people watched intently, keeping
their gaze on the place where they had seen the last ripples close in
over the vanishing conning tower.

The minutes passed by. The shore boat, with the hundred-pound anchor and
cable in the bow, hovered just where Captain Jack had directed, but what
could be going on in the submarine at the bottom of the little harbor?

"Mr. Farnum, don't you sometimes get nervous over such things?" demanded
one of the women.

"Never," the boatbuilder assured her.

Yet is was not long before the yard's owner pulled out his watch to look
at the dial. Eleven minutes had passed since the dis