d air, and out it goes. Then it propels and
steers itself. We have a theory--no, not a theory now, for it has been
proved--that, in case of accident, a submarine's crew can all be ejected
through the tube except the last man. He must remain to die, for he
cannot eject himself. That man"--Ross smiled and bowed low to the
girl--"must be the commander."

"How terrible!" she answered, interested, but looking back abstractedly
at Foster. "Why do you remain at this work? Your life is always in
danger."

"And on that account promotion is more probable. I want promotion, and
more pay"--he lowered his voice and took her hand--"so that I may ask
for the love and the life companionship of the dearest and best girl in
the world."

She took her gaze off Foster, cast one fleeting glance into the young
lieutenant's pleading face, then dropped her eyes to the deck, while her
face flushed rosily. But she did not withdraw her hand.

"Must you wait for promotion?" she said, at length.

"No, Irene, no," exclaimed Ross, excitedly, squeezing the small hand in
his own. "Not if you say so; but I have nothing but my pay."

"I have always been poor," she said, looking him frankly in the face.
"But, John, that is not it. I am afraid. He--Mr. Foster, threatened
us--vowed we would never-- Oh, and he turned something back there after
you started. He did it so quickly--I just barely saw him as I turned to
follow you. I do not know what it was. I did not understand what you
were describing."

"He turned something! What?"

"It was a wheel of some kind."

Ross looked at Foster. He was now on the conning-tower ladder, half-way
up, looking at his opened watch, with a lurid, malevolent twist to his
features.

"Say your prayers!" yelled Foster, insanely. "You two are going to die,
I say. Die, both of you."

He sprang up the ladder, and Ross bounded aft, somewhat bewildered by
the sudden turn of events. He was temporarily at his wits' end. But when
Foster floundered down to the deck in a deluge of water from above, and
the conning-tower hatch closed with a ringing clang, he understood. One
look at the depth indicator was enough. The boat was sinking. He sprang
to the sea-cock valve. It was wide open.

"Blast your wretched, black heart and soul," he growled, as he hove the
wheel around. "Did you open this valve? Hey, answer me. You did, didn't
you? And thought to escape yourself--you coward!"

"Oh, God!" cried Foster, running about distracted