ay detail this
week," promised Lieutenant Benson. "And now I will write your
names down, in order that there may be no mistake about the squad
that reports to me late next Saturday afternoon. Dismissed!"

As Dave and his friends stepped ashore even Dan Dalzell had a more
gracious estimate of "that kid, Benson."

That night, and for several nights afterwards, the "Dodger" and
her officers furnished a fruitful theme for discussion among the
midshipmen. As the "Dodger" was believed to be the very finest
submarine craft anywhere among the navies of the world, the interest
grew rather than waned.

Dave and Dan, as well as their four friends, began to look forward
with interest to the coming cruise down the bay.

"Fellows," warned Wolgast, "you'll have to look out not to get your
heads so full of submarines that you lose to Creighton on Saturday."

"On the contrary," retorted Dave, "you can look for us to push
Creighton all over the field. We'll do it just as a sheer vent
to our new animal spirits."

That was a decidedly boastful speech for Dave Darrin, yet on Saturday
he made good, or helped tremendously, for Creighton retired from the
field with the small end of an eight-to-two score.

"Now, hustle on the dressing," roared Wolgast, as they started
to un-tog and get under the showers, after the football victory.

"What's the need of rush?" demanded Peckham one of the subs.

"It doesn't apply to you," Wolgast shot back over his shoulder,
as he started on a run to the nearest shower. "I'm talking only
to to-night's submarine squad."

The six midshipmen found many an envious look shot in their direction.

"Those extremely youthful officers seem to have a bad case of spoons
on you six," remarked Peckham almost sourly.

"Show some nearly human intelligence, and maybe you'll get a chance
at one of the Saturday cruises, Peckham," called back Farley, as he
began to towel down vigorously.

Dave and his friends were the first men of the team to be dressed
and ready to leave.

"Give our best regards to Davy Jones!" shouted one of the football
men.

"If you go down to the bottom of Chesapeake Bay, and can't get
up again, don't do anything to spoil the fishing," called another
middy.

By this time Dave Darrin and his mates were outside and on their
way to the basin.

Lieutenant Jack Benson was the only one of the "Dodger's" officers
on view when the midshipmen arrived alongside. They passed aboard,
saluting