CHAPTER XII Introducing the "Jules Verne"

"ALL out for the Jules Verne!"

A familiar voice sounded in the ears of Dick Monaghan as he swung up through the big shipyard at Bridgeford bound for the office of Superintendent Brown in the hope that he would find Captain Austin and his own chum, Jay Thacker, and learn from them some interesting news concerning the next move to be made in the game of deep-sea salvage.

"All out for the Jules Verne!" It was a familiar phrase to every Brighton student. At the academy, it was always "all out" when the boys quit their books at night for a romp in the corridors before "lights out."

"All out yourself, old chappie," retorted Dick. "And what's the good news this morning?"

"The good news is that the Jules Verne is ready for her maiden trip out into Long Island Sound, and we are bound thither, old boy, by the light of this afternoon's sun."

Dick was pleased. They had been back nearly two weeks now from Cape May and the recovery of government plans from the lost U-boat. There had been some tedious delay in fitting out the new salvage ship with its finishing touches, and the inactivity had tried the mettle of the two lads.

Eagerly they set their steps toward the offices of "Montey" Brown, the yard superintendent, intent upon procuring further and definite information. On the way they were accosted by "Laughing Larry" Seymour—"the original optimist" the boys had labeled him.

"Look who's here!" chortled Jay as Larry came swinging along.

For once the volatile Seymour was repressed.

"Heard the news yet today?" Larry was all earnestness.

"Sure, we know all about the Jules Verne—" Jay was in excellent spirits and not to be daunted by the changed demeanor of the usually debonair Seymour.

"Naw, I don't mean the Jules Verne! I mean this."

Larry snatched a newspaper from his pocket and was pointing to a glaring front page headline.

"Spy Suspect Escapes Receiving Ship Exeter's Brig at Charlestown Navy Yard in Boston—Carl Weddigen, Believed to be German Secret Service Emissary, Makes Getaway on Eve of Trial."

It was a copy of the Providence Journal that had come into Bridgeford by the morning mail. Seymour was ready to "blow up" with indignation.

"What do you know about that!" he was groaning.

Jay and Dick, their faces buried in the outspread sheet, read every detail of the news item. How their erstwhile shipmate, Carl Weddigen, he of the diamond-theft fame and the U-boat plot, had slipped his chains at Boston, dropped over the side of the Exeter and successfully made his getaway. Within a few days he was to have been haled before a Naval Board of Inquiry; and both Jay and Dick were to have appeared as witnesses in the case.

"Out of luck!" expostulated Jay. "Just after we round up that bird—then they let him slip away. Fine state of affairs."

Weddigen was soon forgotten in the plans for going aboard the Jules Verne and testing her out on the initial voyage. Captain Austin, meeting the three lads near the drydock, told them they should report for duty at seven o'clock the next morning. Jay had heard that they would go out that same afternoon; but now their chief executive told them it would be morning before they would get their first peek at the new salvage ship.

The hours dragged slowly, so impatient were the youths to see the Jules Verne at last. They had heard so much about her and speculated so much on the kind of ship that it might be and how it would operate. Even carefree Larry Seymour, not much given to the serious side of life, avowed for once all this secrecy had "got his goat."

"Must be something wonderful's all I can say," he laughed with a toss of the head.

"And tomorrow we're to find out all about it," Jay could hardly wait.

Morning found the three youths on hand early. Fismes, the war dog, accompanied them to the yard. Jay had wanted to take the pet along on the Nemo as a mascot, but it had been decided there was no space on the under-water craft for a dog. Now it might be different; for the Jules Verne was a surface cruising craft from which under-water operations were conducted—that much the boys had wormed out of Captain Austin.

"Cap" himself was waiting to greet the lads and escort them aboard the Jules Verne.

"Ho! Ho! what have we here?" interposed Captain Austin as he wheeled to look the dog over.

"Some tramp dog that followed you fellows in?"

Jay was quick to tell the story of the famous dog of war, and to introduce Fismes formally to the Bridgeford Yard official.

"Good enough, old boy," was Cap's greeting as he took the extended paw of the dog.

"And now you shall come right aboard the Jules Verne with us. We need a mascot for this new ship. I know of none better, and forthwith propose you as a member of the crew. What do you say, boys?"

Jay and Dick, who shared the pet between them, heartily agreed, and Jay told how he had really wanted to take Fismes along on the Nemo, but had desisted, knowing there would not be room.

"But there's plenty of room on the Jules Verne. Come along, fellows; let's be on our way." So saying, the four deep-sea navigators set out for the new craft, closely pursued by a shaggy brown dog, who, stiff and proud, walked like an animal all conceited over new honors heaped upon him.

"Here she is all ready for us," announced Captain Austin as they came at last in sight of the Jules Verne.

Both Brighton lads stopped short in their tracks. They had expected to see something pretentious. Instead, here was anchored a flat wide-beamed vessel that at first glance looked for all the world like a car-float with the superstructure of a ferry boat. It might have been a houseboat at one time in its career.

But what particularly struck the fancy of the boys was a strange ram-like nose that projected straight out from the bow of this odd-looking craft. At this distance it looked like a series of huge steel cistern sections linked together after the fashion of a long sewer system. For approximately a hundred feet this cylindrical projection extended out from the bow of the Jules Verne. Less than a third of it was exposed to view, the remainder being under water. At the end it terminated in a queer flatiron-shaped turret something like eight or ten feet across at the back and tapering forward to a thin prow of inches.

Truly this was a strange looking outfit! Never in all their maritime experience had the boys seen anything like it.

"You sure have one on me," faltered Dick as he surveyed the craft.

Jay was shaking his head too. "Might be the houseboat on the Styx so far as my store of knowledge is concerned."

Captain Austin turned to Larry Seymour. "What do you think of her?"

"Nix for me, Captain; you have me buffaloed," was all Larry could hazard.

Captain Austin laughed aloud.

"I thought you chaps would be surprised. Well, now let's see. The Jules Verne is the mother ship"—he pointed out the "houseboat" that had first caught the eyes of the boys. "She is nothing more than an old Fall River liner that we bought in and converted into our own uses. She is simply the base of operations. We live on the Jules Verne. She takes us wherever we want to go and she is entirely seaworthy, I assure you.

"Now, look at the access tube." The captain was pointing now to the long cylindrical tube that led away forward from the bow of the Jules Verne. "That is the way we get into the Nautilus. Oh, yes, the Nautilus is really the big secret of our plan. It is the small diving compartment that sets out there in the water."

"You mean the flatiron-shaped section nearly awash?" queried Dick.

"Exactly," replied the captain. "Call it a diving bell if you will. What we have here is two distinct vessels connected by a long passageway. 'The Subway' as Superintendent Brown calls it. First we go aboard the Jules Verne. Then we find the lost ship on the bottom of the sea that we want to work on. When we are ready we lower the access tube and the Nautilus right over the wreck. Down goes the tube. Down we climb just like walking down an enclosed ladder. Through the air-lock—and there we are in the Nautilus! Don't you get it?"

Jay and Dick nodded understandingly.

"Tell us more about the Nautilus," asked Dick inquisitively.

"Well, the Nautilus is nothing more or less than a submarine diving chamber," explained Austin. "It is set on the end of the access tube by means of a huge differential that enables it to work back and forth like a flexible hinge. Under the Nautilus and under the access tube are ballast tanks. You boys who have been in the submarine and the diving business in the Navy know how easily that works. We raise or lower the diving compartment simply by 'trimming,' or blowing the tanks. In case the ballast apparatus gets out of commission, we have the Nautilus suspended on cables. They will bring her up again if she gets stuck down there."

"Oh, I commence to see it now," interrupted Jay. "The mother boat, or Jules Verne, is like your shoulder. The access tube through which you effect an entrance into the Nautilus is like your arm. The Nautilus is like your hand. You raise or lower at will, and you can put the Nautilus down in the water at a distance equal to the length of the access tube, or arm. Isn't that it?"

"Exactly, my boy," countered "Cap" Austin. "And can't you see the advantages of such an equipment? Heretofore, we have had to send you divers down to go groping around over the bottom of the sea after we found our quarry. You had to prod and dig and scratch around to find out the condition of the lost ship, how best she was to be entered, and all that. And by that time, you were pretty well played out and had to stop until you got in good trim again."

"To say nothing of the tides and the storms that kept pulling us away from our work," added Dick.

"Right you are," continued the captain. "But now all that is done away with. When we come to a wreck now we lower the Nautilus; you chaps go down with us and from the ports of the Nautilus we inspect the wreck without one of you having to step a foot on the bottom of the sea. When we have looked her over carefully and are all ready to get down to work, then we can let you out the bottom of the Nautilus, instead of sending you over the sides of the Jules Verne. What do you think of that? Think of it! You are already down in the sea a hundred feet or more. You are not only conserving your strength, but you are much safer than when out in diving armor floundering around in quest of your prey."

"What is the Nautilus like inside, and how does she operate?" Dick, mechanically inclined, was eager to solve the whole of this riddle.

"You shall know intimately for yourselves within a very short time," answered his captain. "We are going right aboard now, and as soon as Superintendent "Montey" Brown and a number of officials higher up come along we are going to cast off and go out in the Sound to make our first practical tests."

That was good news to the Brighton boys and Larry Seymour. Headed by Captain Austin and followed by their good friend Fismes, they crossed the gangplank and stepped on the deck of the Jules Verne.

"Not made for grace or beauty, but a very practical old craft," remarked "Cap" as he led the way forward. The new recruits were anxious to learn all about the new diving operations as quickly as possible.

In a few minutes the rest of the party came aboard and the Jules Verne slipped out into Long Island Sound—ready for business!