b."

"You don't think there'd be any risk, then, in sailing back and forth
amid this wreckage?" asked Jack.

"Risk? Not a bit," retorted Danvers. "Why, look over there!" as he
swung the searchlight in a new direction. "There's that submerged
mast-stump, free of the wreck and floating horizontally, now."

Nor was it long before it was clear to trained eyes that the sunken
derelict had been efficiently blown up. That water-logged ghost of a
ship would never again be a source of peril to navigators.

"Now, you can turn your nose for Dunhaven, and with a clear conscience,"
chuckled Lieutenant Danvers. "And, while you're doing that, I'm going
below for another look at the little leak."

Jack ran the "Hastings" the first few miles of her homeward course.
Then he called Eph Somers to the wheel and went below to relax.

It was well on toward eight o'clock when the "Hastings" ran into the
little harbor at Dunhaven and made moorings. The night watchman of the
yard rowed out to meet them, bringing the news that Mr. Farnum, in the
"Benson," had picked up the crew of the "Mary Bond" from two small boats
at sea.

There was a light in the office, so Jack's party went inside. There
they found Jacob Farnum at his desk, putting the finishing touches to
a telegram.

"By Jove, I'm glad we went out after the poor fellows of the 'Mary
Bond,'" cried Mr. Farnum, wheeling around. "We found them in sore
straits, in two small boats, with only a pair of oars to each boat,
and the sea roughening up every minute. They lost their fishing smack.
Their boat struck on the stump of a mast of a sunken derelict. The
smack sprung a big leak, this morning, and went down. I've just written
a telegram to the Navy Department, Mr. Danvers, advising them of the
location of the derelict as well as I could gather it from the captain
of the late 'Mary Bond.'" With this, he handed Danvers the telegram
he had written.

Lieutenant Danvers glanced at the telegram, and then handed it back
with a smile.

"What do you mean, sir?" demanded Jacob Farnum, wonderingly.

"The telegram isn't necessary--that's all," replied the naval officer,
with a smile. "We encountered that same sunken derelict--and Jack
Benson blew her to smithereens!"

CHAPTER V

THE MYSTERIOUS ORDER COMES

That night a machinist was stationed aboard the "Hastings" to watch the
in-coming of water through the slight leak, and to apply the pump
occasionally.

In the mor