e went back and forth many times without
hearing it; then, when about half-way from corner to corner, a heavy
body came down from above, landing on his head and shoulders and bearing
him to earth, while his rifle was knocked from his hand and big fingers
clutched his throat.

He struggled and endeavored to call out. But the grip on his throat was
too strong, and finally he quieted, his last flicker of consciousness
cognizing other dropping bodies and the muttered and whispered words of
men.

So much for this sentry.

"I know the way," whispered the garroter, and a few gathered around him.
"We'll make a bee line for the dock and avoid 'em. Then, if we can't
find a boat, we'll swim for it. It's the only way."

"Right," whispered another; "fall in here, behind Jenkins--all of you."

The whispered word was passed along, and in single file the dark-brown
bodies, each marked on knee and elbow with a white number, followed the
leader, Jenkins. He led them across the green, around corners where
sentries were not, and down to the dock where lay the destroyer.

Here was a sentry, pacing up and down; but so still was their approach
that he did not see them until they were right upon him.

"Who goes--" he started, but the challenge was caught in his throat. He,
too, was choked until consciousness almost left him; then the stricture
was relaxed while they questioned him.

"Got a boat around here?" hissed Jenkins in his ear. "Whisper--don't
speak."

"No," gasped the sentry, unable to speak louder had he dared.

"How many men are aboard the destroyer?" was asked.

"None now. Crew joins in the morning."

"Nobody on board, you say? Lie quiet. If you raise a row, I'll drop you
overboard. Come here, you fellows."

They closed about him, thirteen in all, and listened to his project. He
was a pilot of the bay. How many machinists were there in the party?
Four claimed the rating.

"Right enough," said Jenkins. "We'll run her out. She's oil fuel, as I
understand. You can fire up in ten minutes, can't you? Good. Come on.
Wait, though."

Jenkins, with his grip of steel, was equal to the task of tearing a
strip from his brown prison jacket, and with this he securely gagged the
poor sentry. Another strip from another jacket bound his hands behind
him, and still another secured him to a mooring cleat, face upward. This
done, they silently filed aboard, and spread about through the interior.
The sentry had spoken truly, they agre