lors rubbing him under the
direction of a third person, while a fourth was slowly forcing a hot
drink down his throat. It was a strangling cough, on account of some of
the fluid entering his wind-pipe, that had brought him back to
consciousness.

Opening his eyes, Dave lay quietly, enjoying the warmth after his bitter
experience. He noticed that the sailors who were rubbing him were
dripping with perspiration. Indeed, they had a right to drip, for the
steam in this little cabin had been turned on through two separate
services.

Dave tried to speak, but all he could say was:

"Ugh!"

"Good! You don't feel chilled, now?" questioned the man who held the hot
drink to his lips.

"Gracious, no!" Darrin whispered, hoarsely. "I'm roasting."

The man spoke to the sailors, who stopped their rubbing and spread a few
thicknesses of blanket over him.

Dave's next realization was that this unknown craft did not roll so
heavily as might be expected. He reasoned that the ship must be a
freighter of broad beam.

Languor was stealing over him as the questioner asked:

"How do you feel?"

"Like having a big sleep," Dave whispered drowsily. His eyes closed and
he dozed even before he could think to wonder if his brother officers on
the "Grigsby" and "Reed" knew that he was all right.

Putting down the cup of hot drink, the man who had done the talking
dismissed the three others, seated himself on the edge of the berth and
placed a finger on one of Dave's unresisting wrists.

The same man was there, seated on a locker and smoking a pipe, when Dave
Darrin again opened his eyes.

This time Dave sat up rather nimbly, then turned, supporting his head on
one hand.

"Hullo, there!" Dave hailed, cheerily.

"Getting your strength back, aren't you?" queried the stranger.

"Yes, sir! But tell me. Is this the same night I was picked up and
introduced on board, so to speak?"

"The same night."

"About how many hours ago?"

"Five, I guess."

"Then it must be near daylight."

"Yes."

"Any American destroyers sighted hereabouts, do you know?"

"Not at last accounts. We have been keeping a lookout, too, for your
uniform proclaimed you to be a Yankee naval officer."

"What ship is this?"

"The 'Rigsdak.'"

"Norwegian?" Dave inquired.

"Danish freighter, homebound from Hartlepool."

"And you're the ship's doctor?"

"Yes. Unless we meet one of your own country's ships you'll be ashore in
Denmark before noon today. But