teady run of six hundred miles. The _Montauk_ answered
that she could make twenty-eight knots and keep it up for nineteen
hours. The other signaler seemed to be relaying this to the transport
beyond, which in turn signaled the destroyer on that side. Then there
was signaling between the _Montauk_ and her own neighbor destroyer about
sailing formation in the danger zone.

It was almost like A B C to Tom, but he remembered Mr. Conne's good
advice and resolved not to concern himself with matters outside his own
little sphere of duty. But a few days later he made a discovery which
turned his thoughts again to Adolf Schmitt's cellar and to spies.

He had piled the captain's breakfast dishes, made his weather memoranda
from the barometer for posting in the main saloon, and was dusting the
captain's table, when he chanced to notice the framed picture of a ship
on the cabin wall. He had seen it before, but now he noticed the tiny
name, scarcely decipherable, upon its bow, _Christopher Colon_.

So that was the ship on which somebody or other known to the fugitive,
Adolf Schmitt, had thought of sailing in order to carry certain
information to Germany. As Tom gazed curiously at this picture he
thought of a certain phrase in that strange letter, _"Sure, I could tend
to the other matter too--it's the same idea as a periscope."_

Yet Mr. Conne's sensible advice would probably have prevailed and Tom
would have put these sinister things out of his thoughts, but meeting
one of the steward's boys upon the deck shortly afterward he said,
"There's a picture of a ship, the _Christopher Colon_----"

"That's this ship," interrupted the steward's boy. "They don't say much
about those things. It's hard to find out anything. Nobody except these
navy guys know about how many ships are taken over for transports. But I
saw a couple of spoons in the dining saloon with that name on them. And
sometimes you can make it out under the fresh paint on the life
preservers and things. Uncle Sam's some foxy old guy."

Tom was so surprised that he stood stark still and stared as the boy
hurried along about his duties. Upon the _Montauk's_ nearest neighbor
the naval signalman was semaphoring, and he watched abstractedly. It was
something about camouflage maneuvering in the zone. Tom took a certain
pride in being able to read it. Far off, beyond the other great ships,
a sprightly little destroyer cut a zigzag course, as if practicing. The
sky was clear and