dock; the
supporting shores were fitted, and the water around them run out. Long
before the flagship _Intrepid_ stood clear and dry on the dock floor,
Dawson, in his uniform of a private of Marines--"A Marine can go
anywhere and do anything," he would say--had slipped on board and
shown the Commander credentials from the Board of Admiralty which made
that hardened officer open his eyes. "My word," exclaimed he, "you
must be some Marine! Come along quick to the Admiral." So Dawson went,
not a little nervous--the moment his foot trod the decks of a King's
ship all his assurance dropped off, his old sense of discipline flowed
back over him, and an Admiral became a very mighty potentate indeed.
Ashore Dawson could face up to the Lord Jacquetot himself; on board
ship a two-ring lieutenant was to him a god! He followed the
Commander, and was ushered into the Admiral's presence. "What!" cried
Stocky, stern in manner always, but very kindly at heart towards those
whom he found to be true men. "A private of Marines with plenary
powers from the First Lord? Take the papers off him and chuck the
damned comedian into the ditch. We have no time here for the First
Lord's humour." The Commander drew near and whispered. "What!
Authority endorsed by Jacquetot? There is something queer about this.
Look here, my fine fellow, who the devil are you? Are you a Marine, or
a too clever German spy, or what? Make haste. There is still enough
water left over the side to pitch you into without breaking your dirty
neck."

Dawson knew his man. He had served in the same ship with Stocky when
that officer had been a lieutenant; he had waited upon him in the
wardroom. He had felt the rasp of his tongue in old days. He
approached, and without saying a word handed the letters given him by
the First Lord and Jacquetot, adding his official card. The Admiral
read the papers slowly and came at last to the card. Then his frowning
brows softened, and he smiled. It was the old smile of Lieutenant
Stocky. "Why, it's Dawson who was my servant in the old _Olympus_; now
Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard. That explains all. But why the hell,
man, do you dress up as a Marine?"

"Once a Marine, always a Marine," replied Dawson, who felt happier now
that the Admiral had recognised him. "I can't keep out of the uniform,
sir. Besides, it's very useful when I want to be about the docks."

"My orders," said the Admiral, "are to dock, clean, coal, and be off.
I am expecti