Williamson was called too, but declared that he felt like turning in early. So, when the shore boat came, it had but two passengers to take from the submarine. There were a few shore-leave men, however, from the gunboat.

"This boat will return to the fleet, gentlemen, every hour up to midnight," stated the petty officer in charge, as Jack and Hal stepped ashore at a rickety little wharf.

"Judging from what we can see of the town from here, we'll be ready to go back long before midnight," Jack Benson laughingly told his companion.

"All I want is to shake some of the sea-roll out of my gait," nodded Hastings. "It surely doesn't seem to be much of a town."

By way of public buildings there turned out to be a church, locked and dark, a general store and also a drug-store that contained the local post-office. But the drug-store carried no ice cream or soda, so the submarine boys turned away.

There was one other "public" place that the boys failed to discover at once. That was a low groggery at the further end of the town. Here two of the sailors who had come on shore leave turned in for a drink or two. They found a suave, black-bearded man quite ready to buy liquor for Uncle Sam's tars.

Three-quarters of an hour later Jack and Hal felt they had seen about as much of the town as they cared for, when a hailing voice stopped them.

"Finding it pretty dull, gentlemen?"

"Oh, good evening," replied Captain Jack, recognizing the bearded man whom he had refused admittance to the "Farnum."

"Pretty stupid town, isn't it, Captain?" asked the stranger, holding out his hand, which Jack Benson took.

"As lively as we thought it would be," Hal rejoined. "We just came ashore to stretch ourselves a bit. Thought we might lay a course to an ice-cream soda, too, but failed."

"These fishermen don't have such things," smiled the stranger. "They are content with the bare necessities of life, with a little grog and tobacco added. Speaking of grog, would you care to try the best this town has, gentlemen?"

"Thank you," Jack answered, politely. "We've never either of us tasted the stuff, and we don't care to begin."

"Drop into the drug-store and have a cigar, then?"

"We don't smoke, either, thank you," came from Hal.

"You young men are rather hard to entertain in a place like this," sighed the stranger, but his eyes twinkled.

"We are just as grateful for the intention," Jack assured him.

"Tell you what I can do, gentlemen," proposed the stranger, suddenly. "I might invite you down to my shack for a little while, and show you my books and some models of yachts and ships that I've been collecting. I'm quite proud of my collection in that line. Won't you come?"

Anything in the line of yacht or ship-models interested both of these sea-loving boys from the shipyard at Dunhaven. Jack graciously accepted the invitation for them both.

"And, though I have no soda fountain," continued the bearded one, "I can offer you some soft drinks. I always keep some about the place."

"How do you come to be living in a place like this, if I'm not too inquisitive?" queried Benson, as the three strolled down the street.

"Doctor's orders," replied the bearded one. "So I've rented the best old shack I could get here, down by the water. I spend a good deal of my time sailing a sloop that I have. Curtis is my name."

Jack and Hal introduced themselves in turn.

Curtis's shack proved to be well away from the village proper, and down near the waterfront. A light shone from a window near the front door as the three approached the small dwelling.

"I think I can interest you for an hour, gentlemen," declared the bearded one, as he slipped a key in the lock of the door.

He admitted them to a little room off the hallway, a room that contained not much beyond a table and four chairs, a side-table and some of the accessories of the smoker.

"Just take a seat here," proposed Curtis, "while I get some sarsaparilla for you. I'll be right back in a moment."

It was four or five minutes before Curtis came back, bearing a tray on which were three tall glasses, each containing a brownish liquid.

"The stuff isn't iced, yet it's fairly cold," the bearded one explained. "Well, gentlemen, here's to a pleasant evening!"

Hal, who was thirsty, took a long swallow of the sarsaparilla, finding the flavor excellent. Jack drank more slowly, though he enjoyed the beverage.

"If you don't mind," suggested Curtis, "I will light a cigar. And say, by the way, gentlemen, what if we take a little walk down to my beach? Before showing you the models I spoke of, I'd like to have your opinion of the lines of my sloop."

"We'll go down and take a look with great pleasure," Jack Benson agreed, rising. "And I'm glad, sir, that you're able to show us more courtesy than we were able to offer you to-night."

"Oh, that was all right," declared their host, smiling good-humoredly. "Rules are rules, and you have your owners to please. No hard feelings on that score, I assure you."

Curtis led the way through a dark yard down to a pier. Moored there lay a handsome white sloop, some forty-two feet in length—a boat of a good and seaworthy knockabout type.

"This is a sloop, all right," Jack agreed, cordially. "Rather different from the lumbering fishing craft hereabouts."

"Oh, hah, yum!" yawned Hal, at which Curtis shot a quick glance at him.

"Come on board," invited Curtis, stepping down to the deck of the craft. "Let me show you what a comfortable cruising cabin I have."

"Hi, oh, yow!" yawned Hal, again. "Jack, I think I shall enjoy my rest to-night."

"Same case here," agreed Benson, stifling a yawn that came as though in answer to Hal's.

"I won't keep you long, gentlemen, if I am boring you," agreed their host, amiably. "Now, I'll go below first and light up. So! Now, come down and take a look. Do you find many yacht cabins more comfortable than this one?"

It was, indeed, a cozy place. Up forward stood a miniature sideboard, complete in every respect with glass and silver. In the center of the cabin was a folding table. There were locker seats and inviting looking cushions. The trim was largely of mahogany. On either side was a broad, comfortable-looking berth.

"Just get into that berth and try it, Mr. Hastings," urged the bearded one.

"I—I'm afraid to," confessed Hal, stifling another yawn.

"Afraid?"

"Very sure thing!"

"Why?"

"I'm—hah-ho-hum!" yawned Hal Hastings. "I'm afraid I'd—yow!—abuse your hospitality by going to sleep."

Jack Benson leaned against the edge of the opposite berth, feeling unaccountably drowsy.

"Oh, nonsense," laughed Curtis. "Just pile into that berth for a moment, Hastings, and see what a soft, restful place it is. I'll agree to pull you out, if necessary."

Not realizing much, in his approaching stupor, Hal Hastings allowed himself to be coaxed to stretch himself at full length in the downy berth.

Almost immediately he closed his eyes, drifting off into stupor.

"Why, your friend is drowsy, isn't he?" laughed the bearded one, turning to the submarine skipper.

Jack Benson's own eyelids were suspiciously close together.

"Why—what—ails you?"

Curtis spoke in a low, droning, far-away voice that caused Jack Benson's upper eyelids to sink. Curtis stood watching him, in malicious glee, for some moments. Then, at last, he took hold of the young skipper.

"Come, old fellow," coaxed the bearded one, "you'll do best to join your friend in a good nap. Get up in the berth."

"Lemme alone," protested the boy, thickly, feeling that he was being lifted. Jack struggled, partly rousing himself.

"Come, get up into the berth. You'll be more comfortable there."

"Lemme alone. What are you trying to do?" demanded Jack, swinging an arm.

Curtis dodged the light blow, then gripped Jack Benson resolutely.

"Now, see here, young man," hissed the bearded one, "I'm not going to have any more nonsense out of you. Up into the berth you go! Do you want me to hit you?"

Another man thrust his head down the cabin hatchway, showing an evil, grinning face.

"Got 'em right?" demanded the one from the hatchway.

"Yes," snapped the bearded one, then turned to give his attention to Jack Benson, who was putting up an ineffectual fight while Hal slumbered on. "Now, see here, Benson, quit all your fooling!"

"You lemme up," insisted the submarine boy, in a low, dull voice, though he swung both his arms in an effort to assert himself. "'M not goin' t' stay here. Lemme up, I say! 'M goin' back to—own boat."

"The submarine?" jeered the bearded man.

"Yep."

"Guess again, son," laughed Curtis, jeeringly. "You're not going back aboard the submarine to-night."

"Am so," declared Benson, obstinately, though his tone was growing more drowsy every instant, and his busy hands moved almost as weakly as an infant's.

"Listen, if you've got enough of your senses left," growled the bearded men. "You're not going back to the 'Farnum'—neither to-night, nor at any other time during the next few months. You're bound on a long cruise, but not on a submarine boat. I am the captain here, and I'll name the cruise!"



CHAPTER XVIII: HELD UP BY MARINES

It was barely a minute afterward that Jack Benson lapsed into a very distinct snore.

"No more trouble from this pair," laughed the bearded one to his companion at the hatchway. "Now, I'll douse the cabin light, and then we'll cast off. This thing has moved along very slickly."

Eph, after having made up his mind to turn in early, had found his sleepy fit passing. He read for a while in the cabin, then pulled on a reefer and went up on deck. Williamson was already in a berth, sound asleep.

"It would be a fine night if there was a moon," Eph remarked to the marine sentry on deck.

"Yes, sir."

The marine—"soldier, and sailor, too"—not being there for conversational purposes, continued his slow pacing, his rifle resting over his right shoulder.

As Eph strolled about in the limited space of the platform deck he heard a distant creaking. It was a sound that he well knew—the hoisting of sail.

"I wonder if the local fishermen start out at this time of the night?" Eph Somers remarked, musingly, to the sentry.

"It may be so, sir; I don't know," replied the marine.

Presently Eph made out the lines and the spread of canvas of a handsome knockabout sloop standing on out of the harbor.

The course being narrow, the sloop was obliged to sail rather close to the fleet.

"That's no fisherman!" muttered Somers, watching, his hands thrust deep in his pockets.

Presently the sloop's hull was lost to Eph's sight beyond the gunboat. Then the boy heard a voice from the "Hudson's" deck roar out:

"Look alive, you lubber! Do you want to foul our anchor chain?"

"No, sir," came from the sloop's deck. "We'll clear you all right."

"See that you do, then!"

Then the sloop's hull came into view again, as the craft headed out toward the open water beyond.

"That's the kind of a craft Jack would give a heap to be on," thought Eph. "Queer that he should spend all his time on gasoline peanut-roasters when he's so fond of whistling for a breeze behind canvas."

As the sloop neared the mouth of the little bay, and her lines became rather indistinct in the darkness, Eph Somers turned to resume his pacing of the deck.

"Hullo," muttered the submarine boy, two or three minutes later. "Here's the shore boat coming on its regular trip. I wonder if Jack and Hal are in it? It's about time for them to be coming on board."

But the shore boat, instead of coming out to the submarine, lay in at the side gangway of the gunboat opposite, and Eph discovered that his two comrades were not in the boat.

"I say," hailed Eph, "have you seen Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings on shore!"

"No, sir," replied the petty officer in charge.

Then one of the sailors in the boat spoke in an undertone.

"This man says, sir," continued the petty officer, "that he saw your friends, sir, going aboard a white knockabout sloop."

"He did, eh?" demanded the astonished Eph. "How long ago was that?"

"Only a few minutes ago, sir," replied the sailor.

"You're sure you saw Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's queer," reflected Eph. "It wouldn't be like them to go sailing at this time of the night, and without notifying me, either. But, then, I didn't see anything of 'em aboard that sloop, either."

Eph was silent for a few moments, thinking. Then, suddenly, he leaped up in the air, coming down flat-footed.

"Crackey!" ejaculated Eph Somers.

For a moment or two his face was a study in bewilderment.

"Mighty strange things have been happening all through this cruise," Eph muttered, half-aloud. "Especially happening to Jack! Now, the two of them go aboard that sloop, and immediately after the boat puts out to sea in the dead of night. What if Jack and Hal have been shanghaied on that infernal sloop?"

Cold chills began to chase each other up and down the spine of Eph Somers. He was not, ordinarily, an imaginative youth, but just now the gruesome thought that had entered his mind persisted there.

He began to pace the platform deck in deep agitation.

"Anything wrong, sir?" questioned the marine sentry, halting and throwing his rifle over to port arms.

"That's just what I'd give a million dollars and ten cents to know!" exploded Eph.

"Gunboat, ahoy!" he shouted, some twenty seconds later.

"'Farnum,' ahoy!"

"I half believe, sir," Eph rattled on, "that my two comrades, Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings have been tricked, in some way, and carried out to sea on that knockabout. They'd have been back from shore by this time, if nothing had happened."

"What do you want to do, Mr. Somers?"

"Want to do, sir?" retorted Eph. "I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to slip moorings and chase after that knockabout. What I wish to know from you, sir, is whether you'll send another marine or two on board, so that I can back up my demand to find my friends?"

"I'll have to ask the lieutenant commander about that, Mr. Somers."

"Can you do it, now, sir?" asked Eph, energetically.

"Instantly. I'll let you know the decision as soon as it's made."

Eph, hanging at the rail in the silence that followed, had no notion of whether his request had been a correct one. All he knew was that his suspicions had surged to the surface, and were threatening to boil over. It was a huge relief to the boy when Mr. Mayhew's voice sounded from the rail of the gunboat. Somers swiftly answered all questions.

"Your craft and crew are in a measure under our protection and orders," decided Mr. Mayhew. "I think we may properly extend you some help. I will send some men to you, and a cadet midshipman who will have my instructions."

"Will you send them quickly, sir?" begged Eph.

"I'll have men on board of you by the time that your engines are running," promised the lieutenant commander.

"Engines?" That word came as a fortunate reminder to the submarine boy. He darted below, almost yanking Williamson from his berth, nearly pulling the machinist into his clothes. By the time that Williamson was really wide awake he found himself standing by the motors forward.

Then young Somers darted onto deck again, just in time to see the boat coming alongside. It brought two more marines, one of them a corporal. There were also two sailors. A cadet midshipman commanded them.

"Mr. Somers," reported the cadet midshipman, "I am not intended to displace you from the command of this boat. I am here only with definite instructions in case you succeed in overhauling that white sloop."

"What—" began Eph. Then he paused, with a half-grin. "Really," he added, "I ought to know better than to quiz you about your instructions from your superior officer."

"Yes, sir," assented the midshipman, simply.

Eph turned on the current to the search-light, swinging the ray about the bay. Then, too impatient to sit in the conning tower, the submarine boy took his place by the deck wheel.

"Will your seamen cast loose from the moorings?" Somers asked.

"Yes, sir," replied the midshipman.

"If there's anything wrong, good luck to you," sounded the cool voice of Lieutenant Commander Mayhew, from the gunboat's rail.

"Thank you, sir."

No sooner had the moorings been cast loose from than Eph sounded the slow speed ahead bell. Within sixty seconds the propellers of the "Farnum" were doing a ten-knot stunt, which was soon increased to fourteen.

One of the seamen now stood by to swing the searchlight under Eph's orders.

By the time that the submarine reached the mouth of the bay the light faintly picked up a spread of white sail, off to the East.

"That's the knockabout," cried Eph, excitedly. "Now, see here, keep that ray right across the boat as soon as we get half a mile nearer."

"It'll show the boat that you're chasing 'em, sir," advised the midshipman.

"I know it," admitted Eph. "But it will also keep the rascals from dumping my friends overboard without our catching 'em at it."

"What do you think the men in charge of that boat are, sir—pirates?"

"They're mighty close to it, if they've shanghaied Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings and put to sea with 'em," rejoined Eph. Then he rang for more speed. Down below, Williamson almost instantly responded. The "Farnum" now fairly leaped through the water.

"Turn the light on the knockabout, now, and keep it there," directed the submarine boy.

There was a seven-knot breeze blowing. At the speed at which the submarine boat was traveling the distance was soon covered.

And now the searchlight revealed two men in the standing-room of the sloop, one of whom, a bearded man, was looking backward over his wake much of the time.

"Can one of the marines fire a shot to stop those fellows?" asked Eph Somers.

"In the air, do you mean, sir?" asked the midshipman. "Certainly."

"Then I wish he'd do it."

Bang! The discharge of the rifle sounded sharply on the night air.

"It ain't stopping 'em any," muttered Eph, after a few seconds had gone by.

"Nothing would, unless fired into them," volunteered Midshipman Terrell.

It did not take long, however, to run the submarine up alongside of the sloop, at a distance of about one hundred yards.

"Now, we want you men to stop," called Midshipman Terrell, between his hands. "We are United States naval forces, from the gunboat, and you will regard this as an order that you must obey. No!" thundered the midshipman, suddenly, as the bearded one started to step down into the cabin. "You will both keep on deck. Otherwise we shall be obliged to fire into you. We mean business, remember!"

"What do you want to board us for?" demanded Curtis, pausing.

"We will explain when we come aboard."

"How are you coming, aboard? You've no small boat."

"We can land this submarine right up beside you," responded the midshipman, "if you keep straight to your present course."

"And scrape all the paint off our side," objected Curtis.

"That has no bearing on my instructions, sir. I direct you to keep straight to your present course. We will come up alongside."

"What if we don't do it?" demanded Curtis, with sudden bluster.

"Then your danger will be divided between being shot where you stand and having your craft cut in two by the bow of our craft," retorted Mr. Terrell. "You will realize, I think, that there can be no parleying with our orders."

The bearded one swore, but the corporal and his two marines stood at the rail with their rifles ready, waiting only the midshipman's order to aim and fire.

Eph allowed the "Farnum" to fall back a little way. Then he exerted himself to show his best in seamanship as he ran the submarine up to board the sloop by the starboard quarter. The two boats barely touched. Mr. Terrell, his three marines and two seamen leaped to the standing room of the yacht. Eph, all aquiver, let the nose of the "Farnum" fall back slightly. Then he trailed along, under bare headway.

Then a shout came from the sloop, as the two seamen reappeared, bearing the forms of Jack and Hal.

"We've found them aboard, Mr. Somers," shouted Terrell. "Drugged, I think, sir. Will you come alongside, sir."

Eph quickly rang the signal, then did some careful manoeuvring. As he touched, one of the marines leaped back to the platform deck, then passed a line to Mr. Terrell. The two craft were held together until Jack and Hal had been passed, still unconscious, over the side. The naval party quickly followed, then cast loose from the sloop.

"This whole proceeding is high-handed," growled Curtis, as soon as he saw that he was not to be molested.

"Oh, you shut up, and keep your tongue padlocked," retorted Midshipman Terrell, in high disgust. "You're lucky as it is. Now, Mr. Somers, are you going back to the bay, sir?"

"Aren't you going to take those two—body-snatchers?" demanded Eph, glaring venomously at the pair on the sloop.

"My instructions don't cover that, sir," replied the cadet midshipman.

"Then hang your orders!" muttered young Somers, but he kept the words behind his teeth. Eph veered off, next headed about, while the two seamen bore Jack and Hal below to their berths.

"Will you take the wheel, Mr. Terrell?" asked Eph, edging away, with one hand on the spokes.

"Yes, sir."

Eph hurried below to the port stateroom. Jack lay in the lower berth, Hal in the upper. The two seamen, after feeling for pulse, stood by looking at the unconscious submarine boys.

"What's been done to them?" demanded Eph.

"The same old knockout drops, sir, that sailors in all parts of the world know so well, sir, I think," answered one of the men, with a quiet grin.

"Humph!" gritted Eph, bending over Jack's face. "Smell his breath."

"Yes, sir," said the sailor, obeying.

"There's no smell of liquor, there, is there?"

"No, sir," admitted the sailor, looking up, rather puzzled.

"There is some infernally mean trick in all this," growled Eph. "I am mighty sorry we didn't bring those rascals back with us."

When he went on deck again the submarine boy relieved Mr. Terrell at the wheel, completing the run in to moorings.

"Did you find your comrades aboard the sloop, Mr. Somers?" hailed the lieutenant commander, from the gunboat.

"Yes, sir."

"Are they all right?"

"Drugged, sir."

"Hm! Mr. Terrell and his detachment will return to this vessel."

The boat took them away. It was five minutes later when the boat returned, bringing the lieutenant commander, Doctor McCrea, the surgeon, and a sailor belonging to the hospital detachment aboard the "Hudson." Eph conducted them below.

"Drugged," announced the medical officer, after a brief examination.

"Humph!" uttered Mr. Mayhew. "That sort of trick isn't played on folks in any decent resort on shore. I don't understand Mr. Benson's conduct. I remember his mishap at Dunhaven. I remember the plight he got into at Annapolis; and now he and Mr. Hastings are found in this questionable shape. I am very much afraid these young men do not conduct themselves, on shore, in the careful manner that must be expected of civilian instructors to cadets."

Eph Somers felt something boiling up inside of him.



CHAPTER XIX: THE LIEUTENANT COMMANDER'S VERDICT

"Let me try to get at your meaning, sir, if you please," begged Somers, after standing for a few seconds with clenched fists. "Do you mean that my friends have been going into tough resorts on shore?"

"Where else do sailors usually get drugged?" inquired Mr. Mayhew. "What kind of people usually feed sea-faring men with what are generally known as knock-out drops?"

"How should I know?" demanded Eph, solemnly.

"You see your friends, and you see their condition."

"Smell their breaths, sir. There isn't a trace of the odor of liquor."

The surgeon did so, confirming Eph's claim.

"But I remember that Mr. Benson came aboard, at Dunhaven, with a very strong odor of liquor," continued the lieutenant commander.

"That had been sprinkled on his clothes, sir," argued Somers.

"Perhaps. But then there was the Annapolis affair."

"Mr. Benson explained that to you, sir."

"It's very strange," returned the lieutenant commander, "that such things seem to happen generally to Mr. Benson when he gets on shore. I know I have been ashore, in all parts of the world, without having such things happen to me."

"There is something behind this, sir, that doesn't spell bad conduct on the part of either of my friends," cried Eph, hotly. "There's some plot, some trick in the whole thing that we don't understand. And we might understand much more about it, sir, if your midshipman had arrested that pair of blackguards on the sloop, and brought them back with us."

"Had Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings been members of the naval forces we could have done that," replied Mr. Mayhew. "Probably you don't understand, Mr. Somers, how very careful the Navy has to be about making arrests in times of peace, when the civil authorities are all-supreme. We carried our right as far as it could possibly be stretched when we boarded and searched that sloop for you."

"I don't care so much about that," contended Eph, warmly. "But it does jar on me, sir, to have you take such a view of my friends. You don't know them; you don't understand them as Mr. Farnum and Mr. Pollard do."

"Perhaps you wouldn't blame me as much for my opinions," replied Mr. Mayhew, "if you could look at the matter from my viewpoint, Mr. Somers. I am in charge of this cruise, which is one of instruction to naval cadets, and I am in a very large measure responsible for the conduct and good behavior of young men who have been selected as instructors to the cadets. If you were in my place, Mr. Somers, would you be patient over young men who, when they get ashore, get into one unseemly scrape after another? Or would you wonder, as I do, whether it will not be best for me to end this practice cruise and sail back to Annapolis, there to make my report in the matter?"

"For heaven's sake don't do that," begged Eph Somers, hoarsely. "At least, not until you have talked with Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings. You'll wait until morning, sir?"

"I'm afraid I shall have to, if I want to talk with your friends," replied the lieutenant commander, smiling coldly. "And now, Mr. Somers, you and I had better leave here. The doctor and his nurse will want the room cleared in order to look after their patients. I hope your friends will be all right in the morning," added the naval officer, as the pair gained the deck.

"Now, see here, sir," began Eph, earnestly, all over again. "I hope you'll soon begin to understand that, whatever has happened, there are no two straighter boys alive than Jack Benson and Hal Hastings."

"I trust you're right," replied Mr. Mayhew, less coldly. "Yet, what can you expect me to think, now that Benson has been in such scrapes three different times? And, in this last instance, he drags even the quiet Mr. Hastings into the affair with him."

"I see that I'll have to wait, sir," sighed Eph, resignedly.

"Yes; it will be better in every way to wait," agreed the lieutenant commander. "It is plain justice, at the least, to wait and give the young men a chance to offer any defense that they can."

"Now, of course, from his way of looking at it, I can't blame him so very much," admitted Eph Somers, as he leaned over the rail, watching Mr. Mayhew going back through the darkness. "But Jack—great old Jack!—having any liking at all for mixing up in saloons and such places on shore! Ha, ha! Ho, ho!"

Williamson, now able to leave his motors, came on deck, asking an account of what had happened. The machinist listened in amazement, though, like Eph, he needed no proof that the boys, whatever trouble they had encountered, had met honestly and innocently.

"Of course that naval officer is right, too, from his own limited point of view," urged Williamson.

"Oh, yes, I suppose so," nodded Somers, gloomily. "I've been trying to tell myself that. But it would be fearful, wouldn't it, if the 'Farnum' were ordered away from the fleet, and Jack disgraced, just because of things he really didn't do."

"It's a queer old world," mused the machinist, thoughtfully. "We hear a lot about the consequences of wrong things we do. But how often people seem to have to pay up for things they never did!"

"Oh, well," muttered Eph, philosophically, "let's wait until morning. A night's sleep straightens out a lot of things."

Williamson, however, having had some sleep earlier in the night, was not drowsy, now. He lighted a pipe, lingering on the platform deck. Eph, not being a user of tobacco, went below to find that Doctor McCrea, from the gunboat, was sitting in the cabin, reading a book he had chosen from the book-case.

"I've brought the young men around somewhat," reported the physician. "I've made them throw off the drug, and now I've left some stuff with the nurse to help brace them up. They'll have sour stomachs and aching heads in the morning, though."

"But you noticed one thing, Doctor?" pressed Somers.

"What was that?"

"That there were no signs of liquor about them? Those boys never tasted a drop of the vile stuff in their lives!"

"I'm inclined to believe you," nodded the surgeon. "They have splendid, clear skins, eyes bright as diamonds, sound, sturdy heart-beats, and they're full of vitality. I've met boys from the slums, once in a while—beer-drinkers and cigarette-smokers. But such boys never show the splendid physical condition that your friends possess."

"You know, then, as well as I do, Doctor, that neither of my chums are rowdies, and that, whatever happened to them to-night, they didn't get to it through any bad habits or conduct?"

"I'm much inclined to agree with you, Mr. Somers."

"I hope, then, you'll succeed in impressing all that on Lieutenant Commander Mayhew in the morning."

With that the submarine boy passed on to the starboard stateroom. He would have given much to have stepped into the room opposite, but felt, from the doctor's manner, that the latter did not wish his patients disturbed.

Eph slept little that night. Though Jack and Hal fared better in that single respect, Somers looked far the best of the three in the morning.

Jack and Hal came out with bandages about their heads, which buzzed and ached.

The two, however, told their story to Somers and Williamson as soon as possible.

"Just as I supposed," nodded Eph, vigorously.

"Why, how did you guess it all?" asked Benson, in astonishment.

"I mean, I knew you hadn't been in any low sailor resorts."

"Who said we had?" demanded Jack, flaring in spite of his dizziness.

"Some of the Navy folks didn't know but you had," replied Eph, then bit his tongue for having let that much out of the bag.

Doctor McCrea came aboard early. He looked the boys over.

"Eat a little toast, if you want, and drink some weak tea," he suggested. "After that, eat nothing more until to-night."

"But the day's work—?" hinted Jack.

"I don't know," replied the doctor, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm not a line officer, and therefore know nothing about the fleet's manoeuvres."

That reply, however, was quite enough to send Jack Benson's suspicions aloft.

"Eph," he cried, wheeling upon his friend the moment Doctor McCrea was gone, "there's something you haven't told us."

"Such as—what?" asked Somers, doing his best to look mighty innocent.

"Doctor McCrea as good as admitted that we won't have anything to do to-day. What's wrong?" Then, after a brief pause: "Good heavens, does Mr. Mayhew believe we've been acting disgracefully? Are we barred out of the instruction work?"

Hal had been raising a glass of cold water to his lips. The glass fell, with a crash. He wheeled about, then clutched at the edge of the cabin table, most unsteadily.

"We-e-ll," admitted Somers, reluctantly, "Mr. Mayhew said he would want to question you some, perhaps, this morning."

"What did he say? Out with it all, Eph!"

A moment before Jack Benson had been pallid enough. Now, two bright, furious spots burned in either cheek.

The red-haired boy, however, was spared the pain of going any further, for, at that moment, a heavy tread was heard on the spiral staircase. Then Lieutenant Commander Mayhew, holding himself very erect, one hand resting against the scabbard of the sword that he wore at his side, came into view below.

Many were the questions that the naval officer put to the victims of the night's mishap.

"Well, gentlemen," Mr. Mayhew said at last, rising, "your story is strange. Yet, I believe you are young men of honor. I'm sorry we have not in custody the men who sailed that sloop."

"Pardon me, sir!" burst out Eph.

"Well, Mr. Somers?"

"Perhaps, sir, if you should question Truax you could learn something from him. I tell you, sir, there's a scheme to ruin Jack Benson; and that's only part of a bigger plot to discredit our company with the Navy!"

Mr. Mayhew, looking thoughtful, replied:

"I'll find some way of questioning Truax. And now, Mr. Benson, since you and Mr. Hastings are not fit to instruct the cadets to-day, I'll send out sections under Lieutenant Halpin on board the 'Pollard' only. To-morrow you should be in shape to resume your duties. Meanwhile, I must make one condition."

"It will not be necessary, sir, to make any conditions with us," Jack replied. "Your instructions will be sufficient."

"While you are on this present tour of duty, I shall ask Mr. Benson and Mr. Hastings not to leave the 'Farnum' without my consent."

As soon as Mr. Mayhew had left the "Farnum" Eph Somers cried bitterly:

"You heard the verdict in the case! A great verdict! Not guilty—but don't do it again!"

At half past eight the next morning a section of cadets, under the command of Ensign Trahern, came aboard the "Farnum."

"The lieutenant commander sends word, with his compliments," reported Trahern, "that after leaving the bay the formation will be as usual. The signal to halt and be ready for the tour of instruction will be given when we're about ten miles off shore."

Six of the cadets, of the engineer division, went below to the engine room. To one of the ten left on deck Jack turned and said:

"You will take charge, Mr. Surles. Assume all the responsibilities of the officer of the deck."

In all, five of the midshipmen had commanded briefly before the laying-to signal was given. Hal Hastings then appeared on deck.

"Captain Benson," Hal stated, saluting, "I have inspected all the submerging machinery, and I find everything in good order. We can go below the surface at any time."

"Thank you, Mr. Hastings. All below!" ordered Jack crisply.

After the cadets and the ensign had filed below, Jack, having seen that all was in order, followed. He made all fast in the conning tower, then called Midshipman Surles up the stairway to the tower wheel.

"Do you think you can head due east and keep to that course under water, Mr. Surles?"

"Yes, sir."

Going down to the cabin floor, Jack ordered two more midshipmen to the tower as observers.

"The rest crowd about me and ask questions while I handle the submerging machinery."

Under the impetus from the electric motors, the propeller shafts began to throb. The next instant the submarine shot below, going down at so steep an angle that many of the middies were forced to reach for new footing.

"The gauge registers sixty feet below," announced Jack.

In another moment, by the quick flooding of some of the compartments astern, the young skipper brought the boat to an even keel.

Having finished the prescribed distance under water, Captain Jack turned on the compressed air to expel the water from the compartments. The conning tower soon rose above the water, and a moment later the "Pollard" also emerged.

Other cadets were transferred from the gunboat to the submarines, and the instruction proceeded. The manoeuvers for the day were ended with a half-hour run under water.

"By the way, sir, did you question Truax to see what you could learn about his reasons for acting as he did on the 'Farnum'?" asked Jack Benson the next day. Jack and Doctor McCrea were talking with Mr. Mayhew.

"I had him before me last night, and again this morning," replied Mr. Mayhew. "He said he hadn't an idea what I meant, and that is all I could get out of him."

Jack looked thoughtfully at Doctor McCrea for a moment before he exclaimed:

"Doctor, if I had anything like your chance, I'd have Sam Truax talking!"

"How?" Doctor McCrea looked interested.

"Why, I'd—" Jack hesitated, glancing toward the gunboat's commanding officer.

"I'd better go and see how the midshipmen are doing," laughed Mr. Mayhew, rising.

For some minutes Jack talked with Doctor McCrea. As the medical officer listened, he grinned, then laughed unrestrainedly.

"Mr. Benson, you're certainly ingenious!"

"Will you do what I've suggested?"

"Why, I—er—er—" Doctor McCrea hesitated. "I—well, I'll think it over." Again Doctor McCrea roared with laughter.



CHAPTER XX: CONCLUSION

Sam Truax sat in the brig, between decks on the "Hudson," his scowling face turned toward the barred door, when the marine guard, taking a turn, peered in.

"Good heavens, man! What ails you?" demanded the marine.

"I'm all right," growled the prisoner.

"I'll be hanged if you look it."

"What are you talking about!" demanded the prisoner angrily.

"Man alive, I wish you could see your face!"

Three minutes later a sailor halted at the door, looked at Truax, then wheeled about to the marine.

"Say, what ails that man? What's the matter with his face?"

"Don't know. Looks fearful, doesn't he?"

"Awful! Ought to have the doctor."

Sam shifted uneasily.

Five minutes later a sailor wearing on one sleeve the Red Cross of the hospital squad came along.

"Say," said the marine, "I wish you'd look at the feller in the brig."

The hospital man showed his face at the grating and looked at Truax keenly.

"Wow! The sawbones officer has got to look at this chap!"

Sam Truax sprang to his feet, but his legs wobbled. He felt his heart-beats racing and his face flushing.

"I felt all right a little while ago, but I certainly feel queer now," he muttered.

Doctor McCrea soon hurried below.

"Sentry, unlock the door! Let me in there!"

Doctor McCrea made a brief examination.

"How long have you been feeling ill?"

"N-not long," faltered Truax.

"Hospital man!" called Doctor McCrea.

"Aye, aye, sir!"

"Have the stretcher brought here at once."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

The stretcher was brought, and the attendants put Truax on it.

"I can walk, Doctor," he protested feebly.

"Can't risk it! To the 'sick bay,' men."

"What's wrong, Doctor?" Truax asked, when he was lifted from the stretcher and placed in one of the berths.

"Don't talk, my man. Just lie quietly and let us get you on your feet—if we can," he added under his breath, but not so softly but that Sam Truax heard him.

The attendant came with a glass of liquid.

"Drink this," ordered the surgeon, "and in a few minutes you'll feel better."

"I—I feel awful," Truax groaned.

The dose was repeated, but the patient continued to grow worse. His nausea was overwhelming and he vomited over and over. In an interval of quiet the doctor leaned over him.

"Have you anything on your mind, man? Any wrong you'd like to set straight before—before—"

A look of fright came into Truax's eyes.

"Doctor, I—I wonder if Jack Benson would come to see me?"

"I'll see," replied the doctor, rising and leaving the "sick bay."

Ten minutes later the naval surgeon returned with Benson. Hal Hastings, Mr. Mayhew and Ensign Trahern followed Jack and the doctor.

"Here's Mr. Benson, Truax," announced Doctor McCrea. "If there's anything you wish to confess, the rest of us can bear witness and help straighten matters out if you've done any wrong that you now regret."

Sam Truax feebly stretched out a hand that was hot and dry.

"Benson, will you give me your hand?"

"Certainly."

"Can you ever forgive me?" moaned the man.

"Why, what have you done?" asked Jack.

"That assault back in Dunhaven—"

"Was it you who knocked me out there?" demanded Benson sharply.

"Yes." In a shaking voice Truax confessed the details of the affair and from that passed to Jack's trip to the suburbs of Annapolis.

"I found the mulatto in a low den. I told him you carried a lot of money and that he could have it all if he'd decoy you somewhere, keep you all night, and send you back to the Naval Academy looking like a tramp." He then added the name of the mulatto.

"But why have you done this?" demanded Jack. "What have you against me?"

"I didn't do it on my own account. I did it for Tip Gaynor, a salesman for Sidenham."

"The Sidenham Submarine Company?" cried Jack, deeply interested. "The Sidenham people are our nearest competitors in the submarine business!" he exclaimed.

"Yes; and they wanted to get the business away from the Pollard Company. They told Tip Gaynor it would be worth ten thousand dollars to him for each Sidenham boat he could sell to the Government. Tip hired me—"

"One moment, please," interrupted Jack. "Did the Sidenham officials know that Gaynor intended to use such methods?"

"I don't believe they did," replied Truax.

"Humph! So Gaynor hired you to do all you could to disgrace me in the eyes of the naval authorities and to injure the machinery in the engine room of the submarine!"

"Yes. Tip said it was highly important that the Pollard boats should break down while under the eyes of all Annapolis, so that it would seem that they could not be depended upon."

Truax here became so ill that his audience had to wait until he could proceed. Then Jack asked:

"What sort of looking fellow is Gaynor?"

"He was the black-bearded man who shanghaied you in the white knockabout. He doesn't usually wear a beard. He grew it for the occasion."

"So, acting for Tip Gaynor, you undertook to ruin us all and the good name of our boats! You even met Dave Pollard and got him to take you on as a machinist for our boats!"

"Tip knew a man who was willing to introduce me to Mr. Pollard."

"It was like kindly, unsuspicious Dave Pollard to be taken in by a rascal like that," muttered Jack to himself.

Sam Truax added a few more details to his confession, then said:

"I couldn't die without telling you this, Benson. I hope you forgive me."

Before Jack Benson could reply Lieutenant Commander Mayhew stepped forward.

"Truax, have you told us the exact truth?"

"I have."

"You thought it would be easy to get the better of a boy like Benson, I suppose."

"Easy enough," admitted Sam. "So did Tip."

"You shot far below the mark in guessing at Benson's ingenuity and brains," remarked Doctor McCrea, laughing. "It was he who suggested this way of inducing you to make this confession after you had refused to answer the lieutenant commander's questions."

"What?" demanded Truax harshly.

"When I was first called in to you, you were not sick, only scared by the remarks of others. After we got you in here, we dosed you with ipecac. That started your stomach to moving up and down."

"What? You poisoned me?"

"The ipecac was my choice. It isn't poison. The general idea was Captain Benson's. With a lad like him you haven't a chance."

"Benson, you infernal cheat, you!" muttered Truax, and started to get out of the berth. But he was weak, and the attendant had no difficulty in thrusting him back.

"In view of what you've been telling us, you'd better not sprinkle bad names about," said the surgeon, turning on his heel. He was followed by the others, all chuckling.

"Mr. Benson," said Doctor McCrea, when the party was in the cabin, "are you my friend?"

"I certainly am, sir," cried Jack warmly.

"Thank you," said the doctor, making a comical face. "With your head for doing things, Mr. Benson, I feel safer with your friendship than I should if I had your enmity."

While they were still chatting in the cabin of the gunboat a shot sounded on deck. Then a corporal of marines rushed in, saluting.

"The prisoner, Truax, sir, escaped while walking under guard on deck. He dived headlong, sir. The marine guard fired after him through the darkness, sir. The officer of the deck sends his compliments, sir, and wants to know if Truax is to be pursued in a small boat."

"At once, and with all diligence," ordered the lieutenant commander.

Though a thorough search was made, Truax was not found. It was thought that the fellow had been drowned. But months later it was learned that he was skulking in Europe with Tip Gaynor, who had received word in time to make his escape also.

For two days more the instruction continued at sea. Then, the tour of instruction over, the little flotilla returned to the Academy at Annapolis. From there Captain Benson wired Mr. Farnum for further orders. Without delay came back the dispatch:

"Navy Department requests that for present 'Farnum' be left at Annapolis. You and crew return by rail when ready."

Soon after this Jack was informed that the Annapolis police had run down the mulatto who had decoyed the young submarine skipper on that memorable night. Jack's money, watch and other valuables were later recovered and returned to him.

Just before Jack and his mates were to leave the "Farnum" for the last time, Lieutenant Commander Mayhew came aboard, followed by Ensign Trahern and three of the midshipmen who had been under submarine instruction.

"Mr. Benson and gentlemen," said Mr. Mayhew, "I shall not make a set speech. What I have to say is that the cadet midshipmen who have been under your capable and much-prized instruction of late wish each of you to take away a slight memento of your stay here."

Machinist Williamson had not been omitted. Each of the four received from the lieutenant commander a small box, each containing a small gold shield. In the center was the coat of arms of the United States Naval Academy. At the top of each pin was the name of the one to whom it was given. Across the bottom were the words:

FROM THE BATTALION OF NAVAL CADETS IN KEEN APPRECIATION OF ADMIRABLE INSTRUCTION

"I think," said Mr. Mayhew, "that none of you will hesitate to wear this pin on vest or coat lapel. The gift is a simple one, but it practically makes you honorary members of the United States Navy of the future, and I am glad of it."

THE END