e was about to put off.

Dave's launch crew comprised, besides machinists and the
quartermaster, twenty-four sailors and eight marines. A one-pound
rapid-fire gun was mounted in the bow, and a machine gun amidships.

"Send your men over the side, Ensign Darrin," Captain Allen ordered,
as he took Dave's hand. "Go, and keep in mind, every second, how much
your work means to-night."

"Aye, aye, sir," Dave answered.

When the word was passed, Dave's launch party was marched out on deck
and sent down over the side. Dave Darrin took his place in the stern,
standing by to receive any further instructions that might be shouted
down to him. "Cast off and clear!" called down the executive officer.

Dan Dalzell, whose launch party was not to clear until a later hour,
waved a hand at his chum. Dave waved back in general salute.

At the same time Lieutenant Whyte put off from the "Albion" and sped
onward to meet the American craft.

"We are to sail in company to North Channel," called Whyte.

"Very good, sir," Dave answered, saluting.

With three hundred feet of clear water between them, the launches
moved rapidly along.

The distance to the middle of North Channel was about fifteen miles.
Time and speed had been so calculated that the yacht should not be
able to sight them by daylight. After dark the two launches were to
maneuver more closely together, and Whyte, who knew the North Channel,
was to be pilot for both craft until it came time to use their
searchlights.

Over in the west the sun went down. Darkness soon came on. Neither
launch displayed even running lights. One had a sense of groping his
way, yet the launches dashed along at full speed.

Dave Darrin was now in the bow, with the signalman at his side, who
would turn on the searchlight when so ordered. With his night glasses
at his eyes, Ensign Dave could tell when the British launch veered
sharply to port or starboard, and thus was able to steer his own
course accordingly.

Twelve minutes later a brief ray shot from the Englishman's
searchlight. It was the signal.

"Turn on your light," Dave ordered to the man at his side. "Swing it
until you pick up the North Channel. Then pick up and hold a yacht--"

Ensign Darrin followed with the best description he had of the strange
yacht.

Less than a minute later the lights on both navy launches had picked
up the strange yacht, well over in the Channel. Dave studied her
through his glass.

"That's the craf