de its dive. A few minutes later the boat ran
into the harbor and made fast at its moorings.

"What are you going to do about the young woman?" Jack found a chance
to whisper, as all hands gathered on the platform deck.

"I don't believe I have actual authority to do anything," Kimball
returned, also in a whisper. "But we have the drawings, and that
writing, which may be a clever cipher. With that I'm afraid we'll have
to remain content."

A launch from the gunboat was in waiting. In this the shore guests were
taken back to land. Hardly had the launch left the side of the
submarine, when a cutter, also from the gunboat, put in alongside. Two
men in ordinary citizen's dress clambered aboard.

"Lieutenant Commander Kimball?" inquired one of the pair.

"Yes," acknowledged the naval officer. "May we see you below, in the
cabin of this boat."

"No!" replied Kimball, sternly.

"Oh, as you please, of course," smiled the one of the pair who had first
spoken. "Probably I am at fault, though, in not introducing my
companion and myself. My friend is Mr. Packwood; my name is Trotter.
We are Secret Service men sent down here by the Secretary of the Navy,
in answer to your dispatch."

As Trotter spoke he threw back the lapel of his coat, displaying a badge.

"I have also some papers to show you, Mr. Kimball," continued the
Secret Service man.

"Oh, of course you may come below," smiled the naval officer. "And,
Benson; I guess this business belongs to you, too."

So Jack descended with the party, while the other submarine boys and
Williamson remained on deck.

"You have, been bothered with spies, Captain?" asked Trotter, turning
to young Benson, when they had reached the cabin table.

"Haven't we, though!" muttered Jack.

"And even took one out with you on this last trip of yours," laughed Mr.
Trotter, producing from an inner pocket a book bound in black.

"Miss Peddensen, the Swedish young woman?" demanded Captain Jack.

"Here's the one I mean," replied Trotter, opening the book, which proved
to be an album, and turning the pages over rapidly. He pointed to a
photograph.

"That's Miss Peddensen," cried Jack, looking up at Lieutenant Commander
Kimball for confirmation.

"Well, Peddensen is one of the names she has used," smiled Trotter.

"What foreign government does she serve?" demanded Benson.

Trotter shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, the Department has pretty good information that she has served