n hatchway, showing an evil,
grinning face.

"Got 'em right?" demanded the one from the hatchway.

"Yes," snapped the bearded one, then turned to give his attention to
Jack Benson, who was putting up an ineffectual fight while Hal slumbered
on. "Now, see here, Benson, quit all your fooling!"

"You lemme up," insisted the submarine boy, in a low, chill voice,
though he swung both his arms in an effort to assert himself. "M not
goin' t' stay here. Lemme up, I say! 'M goin' back to--own boat."

"The submarine?" jeered the bearded man.

"Yep."

"Guess again, son," laughed Curtis, jeeringly. "You're not going back
aboard the submarine to-night."

"Am so," declared Benson, obstinately, though his tone was growing more
drowsy every instant, and his busy hands moved almost as weakly as an
infant's.

"Listen, if you've got enough of your senses left," growled the bearded
men. "You're not going back to the 'Farnum'--neither to-night, nor at
any other time during the next few months. You're bound on a long
cruise, but not on a submarine boat. I am the captain here, and I'll
name the cruise!"

CHAPTER XVIII

HELD UP BY MARINES

It was barely a minute afterward that Jack Benson lapsed into a very
distinct snore.

"No more trouble from this pair," laughed the bearded one to his
companion at the hatchway. "Now, I'll douse the cabin light, and then
we'll cast off. This thing has moved along very slickly."

Eph, after having made up his mind to turn in early, had found his
sleepy fit passing. He read for a while in the cabin, then pulled on
a reefer and went up on deck. Williamson was already in a berth,
sound asleep.

"It would be a fine night if there was a moon," Eph remarked to the
marine sentry on deck.

"Yes, sir."

The marine--"soldier, and sailor, too"--not being there for
conversational purposes, continued his slow pacing, his rifle resting
over his right shoulder.

As Eph strolled about in the limited space of the platform deck he heard
a distant creaking. It was a sound that he well knew--the hoisting
of sail.

"I wonder if the local fishermen start out at this time of the night?"
Eph Somers remarked, musingly, to the sentry.

"It may be so, sir; I don't know," replied the marine.

Presently Eph made out the lines and the spread of canvas of a handsome
knockabout sloop standing on out of the harbor.

The course being narrow, the sloop was obliged to sail rather close to
the f