catboat out of us."

Whistler gave Torrance the glass and went aft himself to relieve Ikey at
the helm.

"You're a fine garby," called Donahue to Rosenmeyer. "Lose your head
mighty easy. That chaser isn't chasing us."

"How do you know she isn't?" returned Ikey.

"She certainly is following us," Whistler said. "But until she bespeaks
our attention with her forward gun I guess we need not worry," and he
smiled grimly.

The boys watched the swiftly approaching boat. It came in through the
narrows at top speed, circled around toward the docks, and passed the
catboat at a distance.

"'S. P. 888'!" yelled Torry. "Look there!"

"I thought it was that same chaser we saw before," Frenchy said.

"Wonder what she wants in here at Seacove?" Ikey asked.

Whistler had changed their course to bring the catboat nearer to the
naval boat, which was slowing down. Torry leaped upon the low-decked
cabin and began signaling by the semaphore code. In his blue uniform
his body stood out clearly against the catboat's sail, and he was at
once observed by the crew of the S. P. 888.

"Whew! Look at that!" gasped Frenchy. "They are answering."

Then he and Ikey began to spell out the word that the seaman on the deck
of the chaser was signaling in the same code Torrance had used.

"M-O-R-G-A-N!"

"Oi, oi!" yelled Ikey. "They're after you, Whistler!"

"What's the next?" gasped Frenchy.

Another name was not long in coming.

"T-O-R-R-A-N-C-E!"

"They want you, too."

"Look, they are calling somebody else."

Quickly the Navy Boys spelt out the next name.

"D-O-N-A-H-U-E!"

"That's me," came in a groan from Frenchy.

"Maybe they don't want me," murmured Ikey.

"Don't you fool yourself," returned Whistler promptly. "We couldn't do
without you."

"But they ain't wigwaging no more, Whistler."

"Maybe the sailor doin' it got tired," offered Torry.

"R-O-S-E-N-M-E-Y-E-R!" came the signal presently.

"See them coming, boys!"

"Some speed there!"

"He's after us," said Torry. "Whip up this old tub, Whistler. Let's start
the engine."

"Hold your horses," advised Morgan. "He knows we are aboard. We'll get
there all right, give us time."

The chaser was circling around, and finally headed toward them. The
excited boys in the catboat saw Mr. MacMasters examining them through a
glass. The S. P. 888 came to a stop near the usual mooring of the _Sue
Bridger_. Captain Bridger put off in a dory from the float and began to
scu