His face was red, almost bloated. There were heavy pouches
under his eyes that told of many hours of senseless, vicious dissipation.
A small wart on the left side of the man's nose emphasized his lack of
good looks. Though the face was large, the eyes were small, beady, and
often full of cunning. There was some iron-gray hair at each side of
the head; the top was bald.
This man was John C. Rhinds, head of the Rhinds Submarine Company. Three
of the boats now at anchor in Groton Bay were his--or, rather, his
company's, though John Rhinds owned nearly all of the stock in the
company.
So far, Rhinds had not succeeded in selling a submarine craft to the
Navy Department. Twice he had been on the point of a sale, but each
time the government had decided upon a Pollard boat, instead.
John C. Rhinds loved money. He was resolved, at any cost, to make the
government buy several of his boats. And he was utterly unscrupulous.
As he stood behind the palms, looking toward the group of new arrivals,
Rhinds's little eyes seemed to grow smaller.
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