At the extreme forward end of the engine room of the "Dodger" was another bench. Here were a vise and other heavier tools. On the floor under this bench were stowed many mechanical odds and ends---pieces of wood, coils of rope, even a bundle of tent-pegs, though nothing was visible of a metallic nature. "You fellows keep at work," Jack Benson shot back suddenly over his shoulder. "Where you going?" demanded Eph. "Forward." That much was evident, but Jack was now down on hands and knees carefully yet feverishly moving the wooden articles, cordage and such things from under the forward bench. "What are you doing?" called Eph. "Go ahead with your work---there's no time to be lost," replied Lieutenant Jack. "Hold this a moment, Eph," Hal Hastings requested, and Somers's attention was forced back to the motor. Sc-cratch! Flare! Jack Benson was using matches under that work bench, now that be had made some clear space there. "I wonder if Jack has gone clean daffy?" half chuckled Somers under his breath. "What are you talking about?" Hastings demanded. "Jack's lighting matches up forward, under the other bench." "What if he is?" "Maybe he thinks he can explode some gasoline and blow us to the surface." "Quit your nonsense," returned Hal almost angrily, "and help me with this job." "I'm waiting to see if Jack is going to let out a maniac yell," grimaced Eph Somers. "Quit your-----" "Wow! Whoop!" uttered young Benson excitedly. "Never tell me again that it's unlucky to throw money away! Whoop!" "What did I tell you?" demanded Eph. "If Jack's making a noise like that," retorted Hastings, as be straightened up and wheeled about, "he's got a mighty good reason for it." "Of course. Every lunatic has loads of good reasons for anything he does," muttered Eph. "Look here, fellows!" ordered Jack Benson, almost staggering as he approached them. "Great Dewey! Am I going crazy, too?" muttered Eph, staring hard. "What I think I see in Jack's hands are some of the missing copper plates." "It's exactly what you do see," announced Jack Benson, his face beaming. "But how---" "How they came to be there I don't know," Benson replied. "But when I threw away your quarter, Eph, it rolled under the bench. There wasn't supposed to be anything metallic under the bench, but I felt almost, sure that I had heard the silver strike against something metallic. Even then it seemed like a crazy notion to me. I didn't really expect to find anything, but some uncontrollable impulse urged me to go hustling under the bench. And so I found these duplicate plates, wedged in behind a lot of junk and right up against the partition." Hal Hastings, in the meantime, had taken one of the plates from Lieutenant Jack's hand, and was now quietly fitting it where it belonged on the motor.