ratively shallow and clear waters between Rame Head and Stoke
Point; while at night the precautions taken were of such an elaborate
and efficient description as to seal the fate of any submarine rash
enough to run her head into a noose.

Accordingly U75 gave the Eddystone a wide berth, shaping a course to
pass twenty miles to the south'ard of the far-famed lighthouse. Here
she was in the thick of the Channel traffic, a stream of mercantile
ships passing up and down as unconcernedly as if such a thing as a
German submarine did not exist.

Although there were plenty of opportunities, Kapitan Schwalbe made no
attempt to molest the ships. For one thing, experience had taught him
that the British merchant skipper possessed a bull-dog tenacity, and a
courage not to be daunted by the sight of a hostile periscope appearing
from nowhere in the midst of a waste of water. For another, he was now
on the look-out for more important game--his chance to retrieve his
already vanishing prestige.

However, one of the merchant vessels served him a good purpose,
although unknown to her. Marking a large ocean tramp bound up-Channel,
U75 dived deeply, so as to be free from any danger of being hit by her
forefoot.

With the noise of the tramp's propeller to guide her, U75 followed,
unsuspected, in her wake as she made for the Lizard Light.

Arriving safely at the rendezvous, Kapitan Schwalbe waited until it was
dark, and then cautiously brought the submarine awash. Punctually at
ten o'clock a feeble violet light blinked through the night. It was
U77's call to her consort.

"What's the game, I wonder?" asked Vernon, as a hail in German was
borne faintly to their ears.

The chums had turned in. There was nothing else for them to do, since
they had been ordered to leave the quarters allotted to the crew. As
there was no furniture of any description in the alley-way that had
been made their sleeping compartment, they had climbed into their
bunks. Here they could maintain an almost uninterrupted conversation.

"Hist!" exclaimed Ross warningly. He had been lying with his ear
almost touching one of the many voice-tubes that led from the
conning-tower to various parts of the submarine. Quite by accident, he
discovered that the pipes formed an excellent conductor of sound in a
manner that had not been intended.

"What are you doing?" asked Haye curiously.

"Jam your ear against the centre one of these three pipes," said his
chu