the
women! You start a fight if you think you can. If you know you can't,
then get away. We're not afraid until we're killed."

Now, eight mutineers, in all, lined across the deck, each man showing a
revolver.

"Humph! We've got to fight--and can't!" muttered Commander Ennerling,
in great disgust.

"We can save those women," muttered Jack Benson, "if they've the nerve
to help themselves be saved."

"How?"

"Hal Hastings and I can swim over, and can hold the women up if they
have the nerve to leap overboard."

"Those brutes might fire on you, and the women, but it's worth trying,"
decided the Naval officer, instantly. "Over with you, then!"

Captain Jack waited only long enough to shed coat and cap, then sprang
to the rail. Hal was with him, instantly.

"Sir," bellowed Commander Ennerling, "Have your women folks jump
overboard. We'll pick them up in the water. Be quick about it!"

There were a few hurried words in the little group of four aft on the
steam yacht. Then, with the "Pollard" running in closer, so that a
bare fifty feet separated the two craft--Mr. Farnum at the submarine's
wheel--Jack Benson plunged overboard, followed by Hal. The girl aboard
the yacht leaped at once, the older woman following quickly.

"Get us, too, if you can," shouted the white haired man at the yacht's
stern. "We can swim a little."

Both craft were still going ahead at about fourteen knots, but, as the
two men jumped Lieutenant Commander Briscoe and Lieutenant McCrea
plunged overboard to get them.

Now Jacob Farnum rang for the reversing of the engine, and the submarine,
first pausing, began to glide backward, then stopped altogether.

From the steam yacht went up another hoarse cheer, the mutineers dancing
like demons, discharging their revolvers into the air. All this while
the yacht steamed steadily away from the scene.

The girl was sinking for the second time as Jack Benson, with a forward
swoop, shot one arm under her.

"You won't go down now," he called, cheerily. "Keep cool and just
do what I ask you."

The older woman, buoyed up by a greater spread of skirts, had not sunk
below the surface at all by the time that Hal Hastings reached her.

"All just as it ought to be," hailed Hal, blithely. "Don't be at all
afraid, madam. Porpoise is my middle name, and you can't sink while
I have you."

The work of the two Naval officers who had plunged overboard was easier.
Both of the men who had leaped