ance. At
the stern the rudder was in place, and all was in readiness for placing
the propeller shaft and the propeller itself. On the floor of the
shed, near the middle of this strange, dangerous boat, lay
miscellaneous small pieces of machinery and fittings.

At the starboard side of the boat stood a ladder that ascended to the
platform deck. In the top of the conning tower a man-hole cover stood
propped up. It was through this opening that the workmen entered or
left the boat.

From outside the shed several wires ran in. In dark weather these
wires carried the current for electric lights in shed and boat.

"I won't ask you aboard until the foreman and other workmen arrive,"
explained Mr. Pollard. "It'll be only a few minutes to wait."

While they were still examining the outer hull, and discussing the
submarine, Dan Jaggers, in his workman's clothes, reached the open
doorway of the shed. One look inside, and he halted short. He gathered
from the talk he heard that Jack Benson and Hal Hastings were to be
added to the "Pollard's" working gang.

"Not if I know myself--and the foreman--and I think I do!" growled
the Jaggers youth, backing away unseen.

The next of the workmen to arrive was Michael O'brien, red-haired and
about twenty-eight years of age. He was good-humored and talkative, and
the two boys took an immediate liking to him.

Through the gate of the yard came Joshua Owen, a man of forty-five, of
medium height, broad-shouldered, black-haired and with a frame that
spoke of great physical power and endurance. Yet he had restless,
rather evil-looking eyes. He did not look like the sort of man whom
a timid fellow would want for an enemy.

"Hold on there, Unc," greeted Dan Jaggers, motioning his foreman-uncle
aside. "Say, you know that cheeky young fellow I told ye about--the
tricky one that played the sneak on me, and gave me this black eye?"

"Haven't you met him and paid him back yet?" demanded Mr. Owen.

"Hadn't seen him again, until just now," complained Dan. "What do you
think? Pollard has engaged that feller and his friend to work on the
submarine."

"Has, eh? Without speaking to me about it?" demanded Joshua Owen,
looking anything but pleased.

"Of course you'll let Pollard know that you're foreman and take on
and lay off your own gang," hinted Jaggers.

"Now, you leave me alone, Dan, boy, to know what to do," retorted Mr.
Owen. Then he stepped on toward the long shed, a very