l, young
careers.

Just at this particular time the young men had been going through dull
days. Beyond the fact of the mere presence of the heavily charged
torpedoes at the shipyard there had been nothing like excitement, for
some time. This dullness, however, was destined to turn, suddenly,
into the most intense and exciting activity.

As Jack pushed open the outer door of the office building of the
shipyard, Jacob Farnum, the owner, happened to be bustling through the
corridor.

"Hallo, boys!" came his quick, cheery greeting. "I was just about to
send for you."

"Any word," queried Jack, good-humoredly, "as to when that cold-molasses
naval officer is going to be here!"

From within the office sounded a light laugh.

"You'll see him shortly," grinned Mr. Farnum. "But come in, boys."

As the three submarine boys entered the office, in a group, their
glances fell upon two men, in the uniform of United States sailors,
standing at ease near the door. In a chair near Mr. Farnum's desk sat
a third man, dressed in ordinary citizen attire. He was a man of about
twenty-eight, dark, smooth-faced, slender of figure, yet
broad-shouldered.

"Lieutenant Danvers," called Mr. Farnum, smiling broadly, "I want to
present my submarine boys to you. First of all, Jack Benson, our
young captain."

Realizing that his question had been overheard, Jack went forward with
a very red face, holding out his hand. With a quiet smile, Lieutenant
Frank Danvers, U.S. Navy, took the boy's hand. Then Hal and Eph were
presented.

"I see that I was mistaken about the molasses," laughed Jack.

"Nothing as sweet as all that about the Navy, eh?" smiled Mr. Danvers.
"However, my delay in getting here was due entirely to delay in official
orders. I am now on the ground, however, and ready for prompt--"

At this moment the outer door shot open with a bang. Hal looked out
into the corridor to see what had caused the disturbance.

"Look a-here!" sounded the voice of machinist Williamson, in an injured
tone. "Here I am, looking about for a quiet place for a five minutes'
smoke. Captain Benson sends me out to the 'Hastings,' telling me that
it will be all right there. So I light my pipe on the platform deck
and go below. Great Jehosh! The first thing I run on to is a couple
of torpedoes, about a mile long and two hundred yards thick, loaded up
with gun-cotton or pistol-satin enough to blow the ocean up into the
sky. And I haven't h