IT was the sixteenth day of August. Only a month remained until Brighton Academy was scheduled to begin another school year. And what a year it promised to be! Many lads who had dropped out of school at the beginning of the World War were expected to return again to the familiar dormitories to renew old friendships and to continue the interrupted courses of study that would fit them either for college entrance or for active careers of usefulness in the world of work.
None looked forward more eagerly to the commencement of this new school year than Jay Thacker and Richard Monaghan, the two lads who had been spending the summer vacation, following their discharge from service in the spring, with the Bridgeford Salvage Company in the reclamation of lost treasure and in testing out new apparatus lately devised by shipyard officials, together with noted scientists.
Ten days' rest had served to restore the boys completely to good health again after their harrowing experience in the Nautilus when they had been trapped at the bottom of Long Island Sound. Jay had come through entirely unaffected by his experience. As for Dick, he had felt the effects of his experience more severely. The bump that he had received when hurled against the side of the Nautilus by the explosion of the time bomb in the sunken coal barge had bruised him up somewhat, although no bones were broken. The nervous strain, together with the prolonged stay under heavy pressure, had left their marks. For a few days he had remained dazed; but in the end his iron constitution had triumphed. Expert medical attention, combined with complete rest, had brought him around in fine shape again.
One morning just a week after the affair in the Sound the boys were summoned to the office of Superintendent Brown.
"Bring Fismes along with you," was the additional summons.
Arriving half an hour later at the headquarters of the shipbuilding officials, the Brighton boys were surprised to find all the officials of the company assembled, together with other distinguished looking persons, none of whom they recognized.
"Come right in, and bring that dandy dog in with you," the superintendent called when the boys' arrival was announced.
In walked the trio, the war dog falling into dignified step between his two masters. Eager eyes turned to catch a glimpse of the illustrious dog and his even more illustrious sponsors. At this juncture, Mr. John R. Walter, the president of the Bridgeford Company, stepped forward and greeted the Brighton boys. Jay and Dick had heard his name, of course; but not until now had they had the privilege of knowing him.
"I have wanted to know you boys for some time," he began. "I have heard of you both, as indeed the whole world has lately. It is a pleasure to know such manly fellows, and I want here personally to congratulate both of you for your splendid work with this company during the last month or so. I have heard of your school and of your desire to complete your education there, now that the war has ended and you have served your country so well. You are, indeed, a great credit to Brighton Academy. This is not said, my boys, by way of flattery, as I believe you are both too level-headed to be victims of self-conceit. What I have to say is merely in recognition of your good work, and is only a deserved tribute."
The president took from his inner pocket two long envelopes. One he handed to Dick; the other to Jay.
"Take these, please, as a token of our appreciation and an expression of our goodwill and kindly interest in both of you. Please do not open them until you have withdrawn from this assemblage. It is not possible to place a value upon what you have done for us lately, but possibly this may prove of some value to you in your plans for pursuing your education to its completion. With all my heart I wish you God-speed wherever you go and whatever you do."
Overwhelmed by the unexpected ovation, the lads could only mumble their thanks as they took the proffered envelopes and transferred them to their own pockets. Deferentially they bowed, while the little audience grouped about them in the shipbuilders' office applauded. And then President Walter turned to the dog.
"It is a pleasure also to know this great dog," he continued, stroking the head of the hound. "He, too, is worthy of some special recognition. To that end, gentlemen, I desire to introduce Mr. Henry LeFevre, of New York, representing the Society of the Blue Cross."
Mr. LeFevre stepped forward and explained about the organization that he represented; how it was an international organization that looked after the interests of animals, particularly horses and dogs. Throughout the war it had rendered valiant service on the battlefields of Europe looking after the interests of the Animal Kingdom.
"The brilliant work of this dog in rescuing his master from Long Island Sound a few weeks ago came to our attention," he told the assemblage. "We decided that such a meritorious act was deserving of fitting recognition. So I am here this day personally to greet Fismes the War Dog and his owners, and to confer upon this splendid dog the Blue Cross of our Society."
So saying, the speaker took from his pocket a neat plush-lined box from which he lifted the beautiful decoration of the Blue Cross. He stooped to fasten it on the collar of Fismes, but at this juncture Superintendent Brown and Captain Austin stepped forward and suggested that the dog be placed on the big mahogany table. Jay and Dick at once lifted the hound to a place of honor amid the plaudits of the crowd. Then, with a few well chosen words, the decoration was affixed.
An impromptu reception followed the ceremony, everybody crowding around to felicitate the Brighton boys and to pet the big hound on the table who stood patiently taking it all in, alternately rubbing his nose over the sleeves of Jay and Dick as they came close to him.
"How much will you take for him?" asked one of the guests, a twinkle in his eye.
Dick smiled. "I reckon he's not for sale at any price," was his reply as he put one arm around his protegée.
"That dog is going to school," remarked Jay. "He's slated to enter Brighton with us next month. He'll be the mascot of our athletic teams; but all the time he'll be the particular pal of chum and me. We have a special reservation for him in the academy stables."
Soon it was all over and the boys with their pet had withdrawn. It had been somewhat of an ordeal for the two modest youths, and they were glad when it was all over.
"Gee, I'd sooner be a prisoner in the Nautilus any time than stand up under that stuff," groaned Jay.
"Well, I should say so," re-echoed Dick.
But the big surprise was still in store.
"What do you suppose is in here?" smiled Jay, taking from his pocket the envelope that President Walter had given him. Dick followed suit.
"I have no idea; let's look."
They did. Imagine their joyful surprise when they drew out a check on the Bridgeford Salvage Company for one thousand dollars each!
"G-o-o-d N-n-n-ight!" was all Jay could say. As for Dick, he just whistled and passed his hand over his face with a gesture of bewilderment.
One thousand dollars! It would permit them to finish their courses at Brighton and give them a good start on their college careers. There it was in black and white on a note that accompanied the checks:
"From the Bridgeford Salvage Company as a testimonial of faithful and efficient service in order that you may apply it to the completion of your education."
Both boys were overwhelmed with the bonus. They had expected to be paid off at the expiration of their contracts, according to the terms of the agreement under which they had been employed in June. This had stipulated they would receive an additional honorarium in the event the company was successful in salvaging any treasure during the summer. But this additional check for $1000 was almost too good to believe.
"Now we can go right through to the diploma at Brighton," chirruped Jay as he danced around Fismes.
"And have some left for college," added Dick.
Delighted, they ran straight home to acquaint their families with the good news. To have been so handsomely rewarded was something they had never dreamed of. Now they were certain to go through with their cherished plans for an education that would enable them to compete with the best brains of the world.
A few days later the boys received a summons to the office of "Montey" Brown again. Their contracts ran on until September 10th, and they were still subject to call.
They found Captain Austin and Superintendent Brown awaiting them.
"What do you say, boys, to a little more fun before you leave us?" asked "Montey."
"Good enough," replied Jay. To which Dick added a "Fire away."
"All right," resumed the superintendent. "You remember we didn't finish up the job on the old Dominion off Martha's Vineyard. Remember, we got most of the diamonds, but left the gold bullion. Thousands of dollars' worth of precious metal down there yet."
"What we want to do is to go back there and finish up the job while you boys are still with us," "Montey" Brown was saying. "We propose to use the Jules Verne and the Nautilus this time instead of sending you down as divers from the Nemo—that is, if you are willing."
Were they willing? Sure they were, and anxious to be off whenever the salvage ship officials said the word. They said so, too, in emphatic words that left no doubt as to the fact that neither of the Brighton lads had lost his nerve as a result of their experiences of the summer.
"Let's go, men," Jay responded. "We still have a few weeks of our contract time left and nothing would suit us better than to visit the old Dominion again."
That settled it. The boys were informed the Jules Verne would sail the following morning at sunrise and they would be counted on to report in time for the sailing.
The Jules Verne and the Nautilus had been completely repaired again after the breakdown in Long Island Sound on the occasion of the coal barge incident. Taken into drydock and carefully examined, it had developed that the Nautilus was intact, despite the bomb explosion. None of her seams had been strained and she had been fitted out with new equipment that made a repetition of the accident in which the two boys nearly lost their lives next to an impossibility.
So, on the following morning, the Brighton boys found themselves headed again out Long Island Sound toward the Atlantic Ocean and the new seat of action off Martha's Vineyard.
"We'll have no Weddigen around this time to ball things up or put any phoney stuff across again," remarked Dick as they discussed the work at hand.
That set them talking about Weddigen. Not a trace of him had been found since his escape from the Navy Yard at Boston, although government secret service men had sought everywhere for him. But the boys had heard from the Navy Department concerning their exploit off Cape May in reclaiming government plans and formulas from the submerged U-boat. From the Secretary of the Navy had come a letter congratulating them for their service.
"I only wish Weddigen was here, though," said Jay. "I've got a score to settle with him, and I'd enjoy nothing more than the chance to turn him over to Uncle Sam."
"Some day we may meet up with him again," returned Dick. "In that event we'll see that he doesn't escape."
Through the day the Jules Verne made her way slowly along. Because of the fact that she was pushing the Nautilus along ahead of her, navigation was necessarily slow. The speed was no better then eight knots an hour. It was nearly dusk when they arrived in the vicinity of Martha's Vineyard and quite dark when they approached the spot where the Dominion lay under many fathoms of water.
Quite a stir was created aboard the Jules Verne when Captain Austin reported that another vessel of some kind had anchored for the night in the immediate neighborhood.
"As near as I can estimate it, she is anchored just about over the spot where lies the Dominion," Captain Austin confided to the Brighton boys as he climbed down from the bridge of the Jules Verne and joined them on deck.
What manner of craft was this? Who was aboard her? And what was she doing here in this neighborhood quite out of the path of ocean travel?