he
channels near the Cross Rip Shoals. I think I had them right, sir, but I
wasn't sure enough of myself to feel that I ought to risk the ship."

"You will remember them, hereafter?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Van Sluyd," continued the lieutenant, turning to another member of
Eric's class.

"Yes, sir."

[Illustration: THE LIGHTSHIP THAT WENT ASHORE.

Columbia River vessel which blew over a sand-bar and had to be taken
overland through a forest to be launched again.

Courtesy of U.S. Bureau of Lighthouses.]

[Illustration: GUARDING THE GRAVEYARD OF THE DEEP.

The Diamond Shoal Lightship, anchored outside the quicksands off Cape
Hatteras that no other vessel can face and live.

Courtesy of U.S. Bureau of Lighthouses.]

"Near Monomoy you stood in a little too close. Keep farther out from the
Shovelful Shoal. If, for any reason, you are compelled to go as close as
you did to the point, keep the lead going."

"Yes, sir."

"Mr. Cunningham?"

"Yes, sir."

"In rounding Cape Cod, sailing an arc, change your course more
frequently. It will save time and coal."

"Yes, sir."

And, in similar fashion, the officer took up each little detail, dealing
with the first-class men after they had shown what they could do. From
that test of responsibility many of the cadets came down, white-lipped.
It was a striking test of a lad's character as well as of his abilities.
Some daring youths would shape as close a course as possible, shaving
dangers by the narrowest margin. They were reminded that if a Coast
Guard cutter touched bottom, no matter how lightly, even without the
slightest injury, there would be an investigation. If it were found that
the officer in charge had been guilty of negligence, even in the
smallest degree, court martial was possible.

Other cadets, again, timid by nature or not sure of the course, would
steer a long way round. They would be reminded of wastage and also of
the fact that in rescue work, minutes, even seconds, might mean
everything. If, under the test, a cadet showed ignorance of his duties,
then he was in for a grilling.

In gunnery, Eric did not shine. He could always work out the necessary
problems of elevating the gun to the right height and figuring out the
drop of a shell of a certain weight at a certain distance. Yet, in spite
of himself, there was always some little trick he could not catch. That
was Van Sluyd's specialty. He had the "feel" of it, some way, and by the
end of hi