er seventeen," gasped Dan
Dalzell. "Anyway, fellows, I'm overjoyed that you all saw him!
That takes a load off my mind as to my mental condition."

"Whoever he is, he's a Navy officer, and he has trod the bridge
in many a gale," contended Dave. "Small and young as he looks,
that man had otherwise every bit of the proper appearance of a
Navy officer."

"What a joke it will be on you," grinned Page, "when you find
the watchman dragging the little fellow away to turn over to the
doctors from the asylum!"

The midshipmen were on their way to report for afternoon football
work. As they had started a few minutes early, and had time to
spare, they had now halted on the way, and were standing on the
sidewalk in front of the big and handsome barracks building.

"Can you fellows still use your eyes?" Dave wanted to know. "If
you can, look toward the steps of Bancroft."

The officer in charge was coming out. At his side was the very
youthful looking one in the lieutenant's uniform.

"The O.C. is decoying the stranger away to turn him over to the
watchmen without violence," guessed Midshipman Farley.

Three officers were approaching. These the five midshipmen turned
and saluted. In another moment all of the five save Dave Darrin
received a sharp jolt. For the O.C. had halted and was introducing
the three Navy officers to the youthful one.

"This is Lieutenant Benson, the submarine expert of whom you have
heard so much," said the O.C., loudly enough for the amazed middies
to hear.

"Sub---sub----say, did you fellows hear that?" begged Dan hoarsely.

"Yes," assented Dave calmly. "And say, you fellows are a fine
lot to be serving here. You all remember Mr. Benson. He was
here last year---he and his two submarine friends. We didn't
see them, because our class didn't go out on the Pollard submarine
boat that was here last year. But you remember them, just the
same. You remember, too, that Mr. Benson and his friends were
hazed by some of the men in last year's youngster class. You
heard about that? A lot of the fellows came near getting ragged,
but Benson didn't take offense, and his quick wit pulled that
lot of last year's youngsters out of a bad fix."

"Then Benson and his mates are real people?" demanded Dan, still
doubtful, if his voice were an indication.

"Yes; and Benson is a real submarine expert, too, even if he is
a boy," Dave went on.

"Then he is only a boy?"

"He's seventeen or eighteen."