ssession of the two captives, he had a
fair idea of counting seconds. At fourteen from the disappearance of
the red light the white appeared. An almost identical space of time
occurred before the red reappeared.

"It's the Wolf Light," mentally ejaculated the lad.

His next step was to fix the bearing of the lighthouse. This he did by
looking for the Great Bear, and then, following the Pointers, the North
Star.

"Phew!" he muttered softly. "Nor'-nor'-west. This brute of a
submarine is right in the chops of the Channel--the main highway for
vessels making for London and the south coast ports."

"What's that?" asked Vernon, who heard his chum speaking, but had
failed to grasp the significance of his words.

"Nothing," replied Ross almost in a whisper. "I'll tell you later."

The cool air had revived both lads wonderfully. They had been left to
their own devices, for the petty officer had gone aft. Those of the
crew who were on deck seemed as apathetic as the men below concerning
the presence of the kidnapped youths. They looked like men utterly
worn out by fatigue and nervous strain.

Grasping the flexible wire hand-rail Ross continued his survey of the
horizon, all of which was visible except a small portion obscured by
the rise of the conning-tower. The air was remarkably clear. Taking
into consideration the refraction of the atmosphere, the navigation
lamps of a vessel shown at twenty feet above the sea would be visible
from the low-lying deck of the submarine at a distance of six to seven
miles.

But there were no signs of any vessels in the vicinity. The German
submarine rolled lazily in complete isolation, waiting, like a snake in
the grass, for its prey.

"Herr Kapitan would see you," exclaimed the guttural voice of the petty
officer. "Come aft. Remember, when you are addressed, to remove your
caps."

The man led the way, making no attempt to avoid the recumbent limbs and
bodies of the crew who impeded his passage. Treading with discretion
Ross and Vernon followed till, after skirting the base of the
conning-tower, they found themselves in the presence of
Lieutenant-Commander Schwalbe, the Kapitan of U75.

Schwalbe was sitting in a small arm-chair which had been brought from
his cabin. He was smoking a cigar. At his elbow stood his satellite,
Hermann Rix, who was also smoking. This luxury was denied the crew,
the officers being permitted to smoke only when the submarine was
running