their long night vigil began.

Hour after hour dragged itself by without a development, the intense
silence broken only by the sounds of the engines and the wash of the sea
against the ship. To the three boys, unable to see or talk to each
other, and Joe and Jerry scarcely daring to move, the minutes lagged
like hours, and the hours like dull, black, endless nights.

Dawn came, and with it new activities in all parts of the vessel, but
without a reward for their watch, and as the two lads crawled from their
places of concealment at either end of the passage, to join Slim and
Lieutenant Mackinson, there were mutual feelings of disappointment, but
none of weakened determination.

"What luck?" asked the captain, coming in at that moment.

"None, sir, at all," the lieutenant responded.

"Very well, then, try it again to-night," the commander ordered. "But in
the meantime all of you get some sleep. You may get better results
to-night, for by then we will be coming to the outer fringe of the
submarine zone. I will arrange for another man to stay in the wireless
room during to-day, and if an emergency arises he will call you."

So the four young men went to bed for some much-needed rest and sleep,
and when they awakened it was almost time for mess--directly after which
they were to take up their night watch again.

"I hardly think we will be troubled with U-boats to-night," the captain
told them, "for it is perfectly clear and there will be a full moon. The
sea is calm and we readily could discern a periscope a long distance
away."

Truly it was a beautiful night. And it was in this alluring quiet of
seemingly absolute peace that one of the tragedies of war soon was to be
enacted.

The Brighton boys and their friend and superior officer, the lieutenant,
had been in their appointed places hardly more than an hour when Joe
and Jerry at the same instant caught the sounds of some sort of scuffle
on the deck above.

It came nearer and clearer until finally, as it reached a point near to
the top of the stairway under which Joe was concealed, the latter could
discern the fog-horn voice of the first assistant engineer.

"G'wan with ye, now," he commanded, breathing heavily, as though from
some violent physical exertion. "G'wan with ye, I say, or ye'll be
findin' it mighty unhealthy fer ye. It's meself that'll be moppin' up
the deck with ye if ye try to get gay once more."

The first assistant engineer was a mighty mount