CHAPTER III Signed Up for Salvage

"BY George! that was a narrow call for me," vouchsafed Brown, the yard superintendent, to the three rescuers, whom he had invited into his office following the tilt with the crowd of rioters. His face a mass of bruises, poor old Montey presented a sorry spectacle.

"But for you fellows, to say nothing of this bully good dog of war of yours, things might have gone bad for me," he continued, still somewhat out of breath. "I'm deeply indebted to you chaps and feel I never can repay you."

The boys bowed modestly and asked the old "super" to tell them what it all was about.

A truculent delegation of the so-called "Reds," it appeared, had awaited the superintendent just outside his office, prepared to present their inordinate demands. Led by their more rabid leaders they had presented what was virtually an ultimatum, and finally had become menacing when Brown told them he would have to lay the whole proposition before the management.

"We want an answer right now or we will start something," was their nasty reply. And as the superintendent had turned to make his way back into his offices they had closed in on him. One hot-headed belligerent had started the fireworks with a well-aimed blow, and then followed the riot.

"But now it's all over and I have to thank you boys for your game stand against such odds," he concluded. In turn the superintendent quizzed the boys about where they had been and what they had been doing these last two years. He listened attentively to Jay's modest statement of facts, being particularly interested in the description of how the Americans had laid the mine curtain across the North Sea.

"You both have had experience at deep-sea diving, haven't you?" he asked.

The boys replied affirmatively, Dick adding some details.

"And I reckon you are both after jobs for the summer, aren't you?" he asked again after learning that Jay and Dick expected to return to Brighton in the fall.

"You're right," they replied together.

"Well, you chaps come back to see me again day after to-morrow—nine o'clock in the morning right here in this office," said the superintendent. "I think I will have something at that time that may interest you," he added.

The boys promised to be on hand at the designated time and were quite overjoyed at the prospect of something doing so soon—and right from the boss himself, too.

"You might come along, too, Larry," the official turned to Seymour. "You sure gave me a boost just when I most needed it, and I reckon you are fit enough company for this particular project I have in mind."

Larry eagerly accepted and said he certainly would be on deck. In a few minutes the trio withdrew from the private office, and once outside gave themselves over to all manner of speculation as to what the big boss had in mind.

"It must be something good the way he talked," began Dick.

"And whatever it is I'm in on it, for what Montey Brown goes in for anytime anywhere is sure to be a first-class proposition," added Jay.

Larry was so happy over the turn of events he grabbed Fismes to him and gave the dog such a hug that the animal gasped.

It was agreed they would meet outside the superintendent's office on the designated morning at five minutes before nine o'clock. Then the trio separated, Larry going back to his work on the ways and Dick and Jay adjourning uptown to mingle among some old friends and, among other things, to lay in new "civvies." The naval uniforms were to be laid aside as precious mementoes of the war.

The two Brighton boys found themselves heroes before the day was over. When the afternoon papers came out on the street they contained two-column double-leaded accounts of the riot at the shipyard and of the spectacular part played by two navy veterans in the rescue of the yard superintendent. Everywhere they went they were hailed with a hearty welcome and given the glad hand.

"Gosh, this is awful," moaned Jay after an old resident had nearly wrung his hand off with a demonstrative felicitation.

"I'd sooner set mines in the deepest water than face much of this kind of music," wailed Dick in return.

The two boys could scarcely contain themselves until the appointed hour when they were to meet Superintendent Brown in the works. The nearly forty-eight hours dragged by slowly for the youths who in their eagerness to find out what it was all about were down at the yard two days later a half hour before the appointed time.

"Medals or mischief, whatever it is, here we go," snorted Larry, the irrepressible, as he joined the group. He was in working togs.

Just at nine o'clock they sent in their names and were promptly admitted to the private office of the superintendent.

"Good morning, boys, I see you are out bright and early, and all set for the big game," began that official.

"At your service, sir," answered Jay.

At one side of the superintendent's big desk sat a grizzled old chap who had all the earmarks of a salt-sea captain of a matured vintage—side whiskers, smooth brown skin and steely blue eyes that twinkled with merriment.

"Gentlemen, I want you to meet Captain Dwight Austin, whom I will further identify a little later," said Brown indicating the fifth man in the room. Deferentially the latter got to his feet and shook hands all around with a crisp "Glad to meet you, boys."

Brown indicated chairs and bade the boys be seated.

"I have a proposition to make," he offered by way of introduction. "It may not appeal to you, and on the other hand it may."

Drawing his chair closer to the table and surveying his auditors intently, the superintendent launched into his subject.

"You all know that during the big war many valuable ships were sent to the bottom of the sea by the German U-boats, and that with them went precious cargoes of all kinds measured in wealth that can hardly be estimated. Many of these ships went down in shallow water, where they lie to-day awaiting the time when reconstructive men of all nations can set about the reclamation of this vast treasure that awaits them in the embrace of the briny deep."

Jay and Dick glanced quickly at each other, recalling on the instant how only a few days ago they had discussed the same subject on the deck of the Leviathan while observing a floating derelict.

"I want to take you all into my confidence at this time," the superintendent was saying, "and if what I have to say does not interest you I must bind you to silence and ask that you say nothing of the matter to anyone. I trust you implicitly and feel that you will gladly acquiesce in the matter."

The three lads eagerly agreed to abide by the will of the old yard boss.

"All right, then," he went on. "Coming right down to brass tacks, our company is organizing a salvage company to go out after some of these lost ships and their cargoes. We have come into some new and original methods of stalking lost maritime game and have proved these processes by some very satisfactory experiments. Beyond all doubt we are in a position to say that the reclamation of millions of dollars' worth of lost cargoes, to say nothing of the raising of the ships, is a feasible proposition. Not only is it feasible, but we are about ready now to send forth our first salvage ship."

Jay stirred in his chair. It was the fulfillment of his hazy dream—the groping for lost ships on the bottom of the sea and the exploration of their battered hulls!

"What we want to do is to prove to the government that our ship salvage facilities are all that we claim for them," explained Brown. "It is our purpose to go out and work first on several ships that we have in mind right here on the Atlantic coast. Once we have demonstrated what we can do, we hope to take on government contracts under government auspices. It is all as clear as crystal in our minds."

The superintendent paused for a moment while he lighted a cigar.

"What I have in mind for you fellows is this," he added. "How would you like to ship aboard this first treasure ship of ours? I understood that you, Thacker, and you, too, Monaghan, had considerable experience diving over there in the North Sea."

The boys nodded their assent.

"Good enough," replied the official. "You are just the kind of men we are looking for. Good experienced divers. We know how well Uncle Sam trains them. As for you, Seymour, you proved your courage the other day, and while you may have had no diving experience we have a place for you. What do you say, boys? The pay will be many times anything you have ever earned in one summer. Go out there into that anteroom and talk it over for a few minutes."

The boys jumped to their feet with alacrity and followed the shipping official into the adjoining room. There, left to themselves, they plunged into the subject with vim.

"What do you think of that? Just what I was talking about the other day!" chirruped Jay as he whacked his chum over the shoulder. Dick was all smiles.

"Looks like a good thing to me—a peach of a chance, I should say." For once, at least, Dick had readily thrown all his conservatism to the wind.

"What about you, Larry?" asked Jay, turning to the third member of the trio.

"Lead me to it, gentlemen, lead me to it; but pinch me quick, for I sure think I'm dreaming," piped Larry in his inimitable style.

The three youths were in high glee. The chance for adventure, to say nothing of the wonderful remuneration that the job would hold. In less time than it takes to tell they had filed back into the superintendent's office and reported their decision.

"Fine business," said the delighted superintendent. "And now let me introduce again Captain Dwight Austin, skipper of the good ship Nemo, the first salvage ship turned out at the Bridgeford Yard. If you boys are in earnest, report to Captain Austin to-morrow morning at 7.30 at the Emerson wharf. I need not add that I am very well pleased with your decision and wish you all kinds of luck in your work for the summer. I don't think you will regret what you have done."

In high glee the three youths piled out of the office after affixing their names to the roster of the ship's crew.

As they bolted down the stairs and turned into the hallway leading to the exit Jay ran full into a strapping big fellow of brawny build, with shaggy eyebrows and scowling face, who was shuffling along in an unsteady gait.

"I beg your pardon, sir, I didn't see you coming," said Jay apologetically, as he stepped aside.

"What's the matter with you, stupid? Can't you watch where you're goin'?" was the gruff answer.

Jay insisted it had all been an accident.

"Keep out of my way hereafter," bellowed the other. "If you don't—this for you." And he pushed Jay full in the face with his flat dirty hand.

In an instant Jay's blood was boiling.

"I apologized to you, but I guess what you need is a lesson in politeness," was his cool retort as he stepped up close and surveyed the bully in the eye.

For answer the obstreperous rowdy made a pass for the Brighton boy's face with clenched fist.

Quick as a flash Jay parried the thrust with his left and shot over a powerful right hand swing—the kind he had planted on the rioters. It caught the bully flush on the point of the jaw—a clean smash that sent him sprawling on the floor. His honor requited, Jay stepped back to survey the damage he had done.

Half dazed from the punch and muttering to himself, the bully struggled to his feet and picked up his hat.

"All right, smarty; I'll get you sometime alone when your crowd ain't with you," he stuttered and edged away sheepishly.

It had happened so quickly Dick and Larry hardly knew what it was all about. Jay explained the circumstances.

"Serves him right," said Dick. "The world is full of fellows nowadays who think they can ride roughshod over everybody. They need to be put in their places and realize that human rights belong to all the people instead of a few."

The incident was soon forgotten in the planning for the morrow.