tement on the after part of the gunboat.

Captain Jack Benson, after heading the "Pollard" about, had run as close
as he, or rather, Hal, dared. Hastings was at the wheel, much of the
upper hull of the boat being now out of water. Jack was forward, on
the upper hull, with a line, one end of which was made fast to the
platform deck. At the other end of the line was an iron bolt for weight.

Close in under the stern of the gunboat, slightly to starboard, stole
the "Pollard." Jack, balancing himself, made a cast of the line. The
iron bolt shot up, past the stern flagstaff, then down into the water
astern again.

With the gunboat lying to, the submarine could move only with the barest
headway. The instant he saw that the line had passed around the base of
the flagstaff, watchful Hal Hastings set the reverse deck control in
order to keep from bumping the "_Massapequa_." Next, the submarine
stole quietly over towards port, Jack, with a boathook, gathering in the
line that he had thrown around the flagstaff. This end he made fast in
a trice.

"The marine guard, if there is one, didn't see the line flying,"
whispered Jack, gliding back over the "Pollard's" hull to the platform
deck. "I don't think I'll be caught now until I'm on that other boat's
deck."

"Good work! Fine!" whispered Commander Ennerling, his eyes gleaming with
satisfaction. "Here's the note."

Captain Jack slipped the folded paper in his pocket, then hastened back
to the line. Hal ran the submarine far enough back to leave the double
line all but taut. Seizing the rope with both hands, Jack made his way
swiftly up to the gunboat's stern rail.

In another twinkling he was over. It was not until his feet touched the
deck that the slight noise caught the marine sentry's ear, causing him
to wheel about.

"Halt!" hailed the marine, throwing his gun to port. "What are you
doing there?"

"I've a message for your commanding officer," Jack answered, halting
with a click of his heels as he brought them together.

"Where did you come from?" demanded the marine, wonderingly.

"Are you the commanding officer?" questioned Jack. "If not, take
me to him."

"Corporal of the guard!" bawled the marine.

Almost in a jiffy the corporal was there.

"Corporal," said Jack, crisply, "I've a message, in writing, and an
official message, too, for your commanding officer."

"I'll take it to him, then," said the corporal. "Or shall I conduct
you to his q