"This letter is addressed to Mr. Farnum," went on the stranger, "but Mr.
Pollard told me I could hand it to you."

Captain Jack took the letter from the unsealed envelope.

"My dear Farnum," ran the enclosure, "since you're short a good machinist
for the engine room of the 'Farnum,' the bearer, Samuel Truax, seems to me
to be just the man you want. I've examined him, and he understands the
sort of machinery we use. Better give him a chance." The note was signed
in David Pollard's well-known, scrawly handwriting.

"I'm sorry you can't see Mr. Farnum to-night," said Benson, pleasantly.
"He'll be here early in the morning, though."

"When do you sail?" asked Truax, quickly.

"That you would have to ask Mr. Farnum, too," smiled Jack.

"But, see here, Mr. Pollard engaged me to work aboard one of your
submarines."

"It looks that way, doesn't it?" laughed the young skipper.

"And you're the captain?"

"Yes; but I can't undertake to handle Mr. Farnum's business for him."

"You'll let me go aboard the craft to sleep for to-night, anyway?" coaxed
Truax.

"Why, that's just what I'm not at liberty to do," replied the young
submarine captain. "No; I couldn't think of that, in the absence of Mr.
Farnum's order."

"But that doesn't seem hardly fair," protested Truax. "See here, I have
spent all my money getting here. I haven't even the price of a lodging
with me, and this isn't a summer night."

"Why, I'll tell you what I'll do," Benson went on, feeling in one of his
pockets. "Here's a dollar. That'll buy you a bed and a breakfast at the
hotel up the street. If you want to get aboard with us in time, you'd
better show up by eight in the morning."

"But--"

"That's really all I can do," Jack Benson hastily assured the fellow. "I'm
not the owner of the boat, and I can't take any liberties. Oh, wait just a
moment. I'll see if there's any chance of Mr. Farnum coming back
to-night."

Jack knew well enough that there wasn't any chance of Mr. Farnum
returning, unless possibly at a very late hour with the naval officers,
but the boy had seen the night watchman peering out through the gateway.

Retracing his steps, Jack drew the night watchman inside, whispering:

"Just a pointer for you. You've seen that man on the street with us? He
has a letter from Mr. Pollard to Mr. Farnum, but I wouldn't let him in the
yard to-night, unless Mr. Farnum appears and gives the order."

"I understand," said the night watchman, noddi