noon time the bluejackets marched up town in a body to Yancey's and
flocked into that eating place like a swarm of hungry locusts. Abe, the
waiter, was just about swamped, and Ikey and Frenchy volunteered to help
him serve the vociferous crew. Yancey's other customers were very much
out of it for the time being.

They were a noisy crowd, but perfectly good-natured; and with the
freehandedness characteristic of the sailor ashore, bought the best
Yancey could provide. The restaurant proprietor had no complaint to
make.

In the midst of the jollification a hush began to spread over the room.
It began at the tables near the main entrance of the restaurant; then
the men began to get briskly to their feet. With automatic precision
they came to attention, saluting the officer who had entered with that
jerky little downward gesture of the forearm typical of the bluejacket.

Ikey, starting from the order window with a tray load of food, nearly
dropped the whole thing on the floor in trying to salute.

"Ensign MacMasters!" hissed Torry for the benefit of the boys near, who
did not know the officer.

And over Ensign MacMasters' shoulder glowed the moon-like face of Seven
Knott.

"Keep your seats, men," said the ensign quietly, returning the salute in
general. "You have half an hour to finish before we march to the dock.
I take it you are all assigned to my present command?"

He nodded to Seven Knott. Then he took a chair at an empty table and
ordered coffee, while the boatswain's mate went around among the other
tables making a list of the men's names and their former billets.

Under the eyes of a commissioned officer the boys behaved with much more
decorum; but it was still a jolly party that finally lined up on the
sidewalk outside Yancey's, prepared to march to the dock.

Ensign MacMasters sought out Whistler Morgan to speak to personally:

"I shall expect you to keep the younger boys straight, Morgan. We're
going to be in crowded quarters aboard the patrol boat. Mr. Junior
Lieutenant Perkins has come back to his command and we are only guests
aboard," and Ensign MacMasters laughed.

"We are about to have a taste of rough weather outside, too, I fancy.
But our instructions are to make the port where the _Kennebunk_ lies
before the morning tide."

"Has the submarine patrol boat, Eight-hundred-eighty-eight, come into
the harbor, sir?"

"I have just been relieved of her command. I am assigned to take you
chaps on h