ung submarine skipper, staring curiously about the
little stateroom aft. He had it to himself, the nurse having been put on
shore. "Under way, eh? This is the queerest start I ever made on a
voyage."

Nor was it many moments later when Jack Benson stood on his feet. His
clothes were hung neatly on nails against the wall. One after another Jack
secured the garments, slowly donning them.

"How my head throbs and buzzes!" he muttered, his voice sounding unsteady.
"Gracious! What could have happened? Let me see. The last I
remember--passing that high fence--"

But it was all too great a puzzle. Benson finally decided to stop guessing
until some future time. He went on with his dressing. Finally, with his
blouse buttoned as exactly as ever, and his cap placed gingerly on his
aching head, he opened the stateroom door, stepping out into the cabin.

Accustomed as he was to sea motion, the slight roll of the "Farnum" did
not bother the young skipper much. He soon reached the bottom of the short
spiral stairway leading up into the conning tower. Up there, in the
helmsman's seat, he espied Hal Hastings with his hands employed at the
steering apparatus. Hal was looking out over the water, straight ahead.

"Sailing these days without word from your captain, eh?" Jack called, in a
voice that carried, though it shook.

"Gracious--you?" ejaculated Hal, looking down for an instant. Then Hastings
pressed a button connecting with a bell in the engine room.

"I'm going up there with you," Jack volunteered.

"Right-o, if you insist," clicked Eph Somers, appearing from the engine
room and darting to the young skipper's side. True, Jack's head swam a bit
dizzily as he climbed the stairs, but Eph's strong support made the task
much easier. There was space to spare on the seat beside Hal, and into
this Jack Benson sank.

"Say, you ought to sleep until afternoon," was Hastings's next greeting,
but Jack was looking out of the conning tower at the scene around him.

The three craft were leaving the coast directly behind. About three
hundred yards away, abeam, steamed the "Hudson" at a nine-knot gait.

"The 'Pollard' is on the other side of the gunboat, isn't she?" asked
Jack.

"Yes," Hal nodded.

"Naval crew aboard her?"

"Yes; Government has taken full possession of the 'Pollard.'"

"Who's running this boat? Just you and Eph?"

"No; that new man, Truax, is on board, and at the last moment Mr. Farnum
put Williamson, one of the m