"He didn't say so," replied Jack Benson, with a wry smile, "but he let
me see that he thought I was out of my element on a submarine boat."

"How so?"

"Why, it is very plain that Mr. Mayhew thinks I ought to employ my
time writing improbable fiction."

"Oh, Mayhew be bothered!" exploded Eph.

"Hardly," retorted Jack. "Mr. Mayhew is an officer and a gentleman. I
admit that my yarn does sound fishy to a stranger. Besides, fellows,
Mr. Mayhew represents the naval officers through whose good opinion
our employers hope to sell a big fleet of submarine torpedo boats to
the United States Government.

"Then what are you going to do about it?" asked Hal, as the three boys
reached the cabin below.

"First of all, I'm going to rummage about and get myself some breakfast."

"If you do, there'll be a fight," growled Eph Somers. "I'll hash up a
breakfast for you."

"And, afterwards?" persisted Hal.

"I'm going to try to win Mr. Mayhew's good opinion, and that of every
other naval officer or cadet I may happen to meet."

"Why the cadets, particularly?" asked Eph Somers.

"Because, for one business reason, the cadets are going to be the naval
officers of to-morrow, and the Pollard Submarine Boat Company hopes to
be building craft for the Navy for a good many years to come."

"Good enough!" nodded Hal, while Eph dodged away to get that breakfast
ready.

Sam Truax lounged back in the engine room, smoking a short pipe. With
him stuck Williamson, for Eph had privately instructed the machinist
from the Farnum yard not to leave the stranger alone in the engine room.

"Why don't you go up on deck and get a few whiffs of fresh air?" asked
Truax.

"Oh, I'm comfortable down here," grunted the machinist, who was
stretched out on one of the leather-cushioned seats that ran along the
Bide of the engine room.

"I should think you'd want to get out of here once in a while, though,"
returned Truax.

"Why?" asked the machinist. "Anything you want to be left alone here
for?"

"Oh, of course not," drawled Truax, blowing out a cloud of tobacco smoke.

"Then I guess I'll stay where I am," nodded Williamson.

"Sorry, but you'll have to stop all smoking in here now," announced Eph,
thrusting his head in at the doorway. "There'll be a lot of cadets
aboard at eleven o'clock, and we want the air clear and sweet. You'd
better go all over the machinery and see that everything is in apple
pie order and appearance. Mr. Hasting