t prize myself," muttered the executive
officer. "That is, if I were sure that I could honestly accept the leave
without prejudice to duty."

"Find the periscope, then," smiled Darrin. "I am sure I can win the
promised reward, even for the executive officer."

Not long afterward they were in plain sight of the "Gloucester." On she
came, the smoke pouring from her pair of funnels. A fast craft, the
hospital ship was making about her best time in her hurry to get safely
across with her precious human cargo.

Then the "Grigsby" swung far out to port, cut a part of a circle, and
came back on the hospital ship's port bow, darting ahead again, cutting
across the hospital ship's bow far ahead and to port, then turning and
crossing once more.

After the two craft had proceeded some distance farther the two
mine-sweepers were sighted well ahead. These craft would soon turn and
sweep the waters for mines ahead of the hospital ship.

Not mere fancy capers was the "Grigsby" cutting. As she crossed the
"Gloucester's" bows time and again her lookouts were able to keep sharp
watch to port and starboard of the ship that bore a human cargo of pain
and suffering. It was the only way for a solitary destroyer to keep
effective watch on both sides of the ship she was convoying.

Twice Dave used his glass to glance along the nearer rail of the
steamship in search of Belle Darrin. He did not find her thus, and did
not try again, for he must not fail in his unceasing watch for the ship's
safety.

The mine-sweepers signalled their message of greeting, then turned and
swung into place. From this point the "Gloucester" and her escort slowed
down speed to accommodate that of the smaller craft.

The vessel wearing the emblem of the Red Cross had not yet reached the
spot at which the sweepers had turned.

Over the sea came a sullen, significant roar. The "Gloucester" shivered
from stem to stern. A wail of anguish went up in concert from the
soldiers on board the hospital ship who were worst wounded.

It had come so suddenly that, for an instant, Dave Darrin was dazed.

"That wasn't a torpedo!" he cried, hoarsely, a second or two later.

"She hit a mine, sir," reported Lieutenant Fernald. "It wasn't the fault
of the sweepers, either, for they hadn't time to get that far. But it's
awful--awful! There'll be hundreds of the poor fellows drowned!"

Dave quickly recovered his presence of mind. As the "Gloucester" shut off
speed Darrin turne