t applause as modestly as possible."

The submarine's entire crew were speedily on the platform deck, while
Captain Jack was busily explaining to his friends the necessity that had
arisen for such a prompt, deep dive.

"Oh, but that was magnificently done, Jack!" cried the inventor, in a
transport of enthusiasm. "Hear them yell! See them wave! The din of
the whistles! It was the best thing we've done or could do in the way
of compelling advertising!"

"Advertising be--will keep!" rasped Jacob Farnum. "But, for now,
Captain Benson, hustle over to that pier as fast as the speed of the
boat will allow. Advertising--with Grace Desmond's fortune and
happiness at stake!"

So the young captain turned on speed, and steered on through the lanes
of Naval vessels. Even on those craft from which his dashing, daring
performance had not been witnessed the news was known, now, passed from
ship to ship by the wig-wagging of signal flags.

All the way into the pier the "Pollard" was greeted with tempestuous
volleys of applause, for there is nothing the American naval tar loves
as he does sheer, wild grit.

"Advertising, is it?" demanded Mr. Farnum, in raging disgust. "We're
getting plenty and to spare. No one within five miles of here can
possibly be ignorant of the fact that the 'Pollard' is making a hustle
to the dock!"

CHAPTER XXIII

WANTED, BADLY--ONE STEWARD!

As the "Pollard" slipped in at a vacant berth on one side of the pier,
there was a rush of civilians, and of sailors and marines on brief shore
leave.

Many of those who crowded down to look over the boat and her crew had
witnessed Captain Jack Benson's difficult manoeuvre from the distance.

"Take the wheel, Hal," Jack murmured to his chum. "You and Eph had
better stay aboard, and slip out into the stream before a swarm of folks
rushes aboard."

Jacob Farnum leaped to the pier, the inventor following. Jack leaped
to the string-piece last of all. Then Hal veered easily off, turning
the boat's nose about and making out again.

"Aw!" went up a murmur from the crowd. "We wanted to see that craft."

"There she is," smiled Benson. "She won't go far away. She'll be
on view, all right."

Jacob Farnum made straight for two marines who had been standing a little
distance away. Neither had joined in the rush for the submarine.

"My men, to what ship do you belong?" he asked, quickly.

"Flagship 'Columbia,' sir," replied one of the men.