But I have
learned much to-day that will stand me in great stead, should I ever be
in command of a flotilla of submarines in war time."

"Then I suppose I ought to forgive myself for my recklessness," laughed
Jack.

"You want to forget it, Benson. The thing you want to remember is that
men who serve in navies sign their lives away when they enter the
service. All must be sacrificed, at the first instant of need, to the
service and to the Flag!"

"That idea would frighten some mothers, wouldn't it?" smiled Captain
Jack Benson.

"Fighting battles is not a woman's business," replied Danvers, soberly
and reverently. "Her task is to rear sons who shall be unafraid, and
to leave the rest to the God of Battles."

The "Hastings" now drifted so lazily over the waters that Eph stood by
the wheel, one hand resting indolently against the uppermost spokes.

The "Thor" had headed off, after watching the explosion of the torpedo,
and was now considerably off the "Hastings's" port beam. The "Oakland,"
on the other hand, was heading up for an official view of what wasn't
there in the shape of a derelict.

As she came in close the gunboat sounded three long, hoarse whistles.

"There are your congratulations from the board, Benson," laughed the
naval lieutenant, then walked over to port. Jacob Farnum slipped out
on the platform deck to hear any hail that might come from Uncle Sam's
gunboat.

Danvers was no longer interested in the scene. Whatever was to come, he
felt, would be tame compared with what he had recently seen.

So he stood, looking out dreamily over the waters at port. He saw the
"Thor" head for the "Hastings," as though intending to come up. Then
she veered off, heading eastward. At this instant the naval officer
happened to have his glass to his eyes. He had just counted the number
of people in sight on the Rhinds craft.

"All but one of the Rhinds crowd on deck," thought Mr. Danvers. "I
don't make out that fellow, Radwin. He must be taking the engine trick."

Jack Benson also sauntered over to port side, though not with any
intention of addressing the naval officer. Benson was not thinking of
anything in particular as he glanced out over the waves.

Then, all of a sudden, the young submarine commander sprang alert with
suspicion--next, certainty and horror!

Out there on the water something was moving--something headed toward
the "Hastings." It came on with a swift, cleaving movement. There w