which Truax tossed restlessly.

"Doc," he begged, at last, "I wish you'd tell me what ails me."

"What's the use?" demanded the surgeon, shaking his head.

"Am I--am I--oh, good heavens! There comes that fearful nausea
again!"

"No, no! Fight it off! Don't let it get the better of you," urged
the surgeon, anxiously.

But the nausea was not to be denied. Presently Truax settled back on
his pillows.

"Is there anything on your mind, my man?" asked Doctor McCrea, bending
over the sufferer. "Is there anything you'd like to set right,
before--before--"

Doctor Mccrea's speech ended in an odd little click in his throat.

"Doctor, am I--am I--"

"Is there any little confession you would like to make? And wrong you
may have done that you'd like to set straight, my man? If so, we can
take down a statement, you know."

Truax groaned, but there was a look of great fright in his eyes.

"Doc, I--I wonder--if--"

"Well, Truax?"

"Are we at anchor--now?"

"Yes; in the little bay for the night."

"Is--is the 'Farnum' here, too?"

"Yes."

"I--I wonder if Jack Benson would come to see me for a little while?"

"Why, I'll see, of course," volunteered Doctor McCrea, rising and
leaving the sick boy.

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

Ten minutes later the naval surgeon returned with Benson. With the
latter was Hal Hastings. Mr. Mayhew and Ensign Trahern hovered in the
rear of the group.

"Here's Mr. Benson, Truax," announced Doctor McCrea. "Now, my man, if
there is anything of which you want to unburden your mind, go ahead and
do it. The rest of us can bear witness, and help matters straight if,
in your better health, you have done anything that needs righting."

Sam Truax feebly stretched out a hand that certainly was hot enough by
this time.

"Benson," he begged, weakly, "will you give me your hand?"

"Certainly," nodded Jack, as he did so.

"I--I wonder if you can ever forgive me?" moaned the ill man.

"Why, have you done anything that I don't already know?" asked Jack.

"A lot! Benson, I've been an all-around scoundrel."

"That's certainly surprising news," commented the submarine boy, dryly.
"What have you been doing?"

"That assault back in Dunhaven--?"

"Was it you who knocked me out there, and sprinkled my clothes with
whiskey?" demanded young Benson.

"Yes." In a somewhat shaking voice Truax confessed to the details of
that outrageous affair. From that he passed on to Jack's