return to Washington with
the charts and record books.

Down in a berth in the sick bay, lay Gray. The hospital steward had
made the wounded man as comfortable as possible. The latter was
painfully but not seriously wounded.

At the speed at which the gunboat was now proceeding the "Sudbury" was
due at anchorage at six in the morning.

Lieutenant Jack had turned in, after leaving orders that he was to be
called a few minutes before five. He wanted to be on deck to enjoy
the sensations of his last hour of command on the cruise of a vessel
of the United States Navy. Forward, the sailors of the watch were
talking in low tones of their very youthful officers.

"There's the real stuff in those boy officers, mates," grunted one
sailor who had been in the boarding party. "It don't make any
difference whether they've been through Annapolis or not. Look at the
way the lieutenant and Mr. Somers went up against the shooting. Kept
us back, and took the medicine themselves, like real officers."

"You'd expect it of Somers," rejoined another sailor. "There's a bit
of the bull-neck about him, and such men always fight. But the
lieutenant makes a real officer that I'd be glad to foller anywhere."

"Mr. Hastings didn't get a chance to show what was in him," suggested
another of Uncle Sam's old salts.

"Oh, you leave Mr. Hastings alone for fighting, if he saw any need
to," retorted the sailor who had been the first to speak. "He's one
of your very quiet chaps. Your quiet ones always sail into a fight
while a brawler is getting his mouth wound up to do some talking."

"Hanged, if I don't wish them lads could remain on board!" muttered
another old salt.

"With the young lieutenant to command the ship?" asked another.

"Him as well as anyone. He knows what he's doing, for which reason I
don't care for the number of the year he was born in. Why, mates, the
lieutenant is the head of them submarine boys we've read so much about
in the newspapers when layin' in port. And the other two are his
messmates. Now, I'll stand for it that the submarine boys are good for
any kind of a job on salt water. I'd foller their lead on a battleship!"

It would have been fine for the three submarine boys had they been able
to know what great opinions the crew held of them.

But Hal was again on the bridge in the last watch, and Eph had gone
below for an hour's sleep ere he, like Jack Benson, was to be called.

Then, at last, two s