t, patiently. "Now,
Dave Pollard, the inventor of the boat, is a powerful bright young man,
on theory, some folks says, but he ain't much use with tools in his
hands. But he an' young Jake Farnum hang 'round, watching and bossing,
and they have a foreman of the gang, Joshua Owen, who knows he knows
most everything 'bout buildin' any kind of boat. So, barrin' the
fussing of Farnum and Pollard, I guess Josh Owen is the real boss of
the job, since the riveters' gang came an' put the hull together, an'
went away."

"Then I suppose Mr. Owen--" began Jack.

"Ja-a-abez! Jabez Holt! Come here!" rang a shrill, feminine voice from
the interior of the hotel.

"Must be goin', for a few minutes, anyway," grunted Jabez, rising and
leaving the two boys. But no sooner was he out of sight than Jack
Benson turned upon his chum, his eyes ablaze.

"Hal Hastings," he effused, in a low voice, "I had forgotten that
Dunhaven was the home of the Pollard boat. But, since it is, and since
we're here--why, here we'd better stay."

"Do you think we can get in on that job?" asked Hal, dubiously.

"Not if we just sit around and wonder, or if we go meekly and ask for
a job, and turn sadly away when we're refused," retorted Jack Benson,
with a vim that was characteristic of him. "Hal, my boy, we're simply
going to shove ourselves into jobs in that boatyard, and we're going
to have a whack at the whole game of building and fitting out a
submarine torpedo boat. Do you catch the idea? We're just going to
hustle ourselves into the one job that would suit us better than
anything else on earth!"

"Bully!" agreed Hal, wistfully. "I hope you can work it."

"_We_ can," returned his chum, spiritedly. "Team work, you know.
We've worked around machine shops, and at other trades, and we know
something about the way boats are handled. Why shouldn't we be able
to make Farnum and Pollard believe we know something that will be of
use to them?"

"I guess the foreman is the one we want to see, first of all," suggested
Hal.

"Well, we'll camp right down here and go at the thing," almost whispered
Benson. "And, as this hotel is right at the water front, and within
two jumps of the boatyard, I guess we'd better stay here until we
get settled."

While the two chums were discussing the whole matter in eager, low
tones, a few things may be told about them that will make their present
situation clearer. Jack Benson, an only son, had been orphaned,