hem? The United
States Navy never did lie back and wait for the enemy to come out."

Passing along, the deck to the conning tower, Lieutenant McClure
stopped to eye the little group.

"You fellows just aching for a scrap again," he said finally. "Well,
there's no telling when we might run right into one to-night. Those
German destroyers are likely to make a sortie from Ostend. Besides,
you never can tell when some of the Kaiser's air navy is likely to be
popping around."

As he spoke "Little Mack" scanned the sky to the east. Turning to the
boys, he remarked laughingly: "You three pretty good chums, aren't
you?" gazing along the line, from Jack to Ted and then to Bill Witt.

"Just like three peas in a pod," declared Bill Witt. "These two
Brighton boys took me right in---and me a rank outsider! I'm sure
lucky to have struck two such good friends."

Everybody laughed at Bill's frank avowal of friendship and Jack
responded with a crack on the back that made Bill wince.

"Guess we know good goods when we meet it," he added.

"Little Mack" had been taking it all in with approval.

"That's right, boys," he smiled. "You've got the right spirit.
That's the kind of democracy we stand for, and that's why the good
old U.S. Navy is the best in the world---fellows all pulling together.
I'm mighty proud of all my boys," continued the little lieutenant.
"You've made a great record so far, and I only hope you keep up the
good work. Stick together like pals---and be proud of that flag
of ours."

With a wave of the hand the ship's commander passed along the deck
and into the conning tower.

"There's an ace for you," said Jack, with an admiring glance at the
retreating figure.

"Ace! I should say so," sputtered Bill. "Why, if 'Little Mack' told
me to go get von Tirpitz I'd go right after him."

Soon it was dusk and the little fleet had gotten out of sight of land
into the North Sea. Stealing away like shadows into the gloom, the
fleet of transports trailed along in battle formation ready to turn
back any attack. The crew of the _Dewey_ had retreated into the hold
and the vessel was riding awash, with Commander McClure at the wheel,
observing the deployment of the fleet from the conning tower.

Down in the torpedo room, bottled up under water where no sound could
escape to attract the attention of the outside world, Mike Mowrey
had tuned up his old banjo and the boys were having an old-fashioned
songfest.

"