It was upon the last day of September that great news reached the fleet—­news that indicated that the war was nearing its end and that now, if ever, the German fleet might venture from its hiding place and risk an engagement.

Bulgaria had broken with Germany and sued for a separate peace.

Several days later came the news that an armistice had been signed and that Bulgaria had ordered all German and Austrian troops to leave her boundaries.  King Ferdinand abdicated in favor of his eldest son, Boris, who immediately ordered the demobilization of the Bulgarian armies.

“Turkey will come next, mark my words,” declared Frank as he and Jack stood on the bridge, looking off across the broad expanse of the North Sea.

“Most likely,” Jack agreed; “and after Turkey, Austria.  That will leave Germany to fight the world by herself.”

“She’ll never attempt that,” Frank declared.  “The minute she sees her last chance gone, she’ll squeal for help, the same as a hog.  It’s not in a German to take a licking, you know.  He begins to show, yellow when the game goes against him.”

“Perfectly true,” said Jack, with a nod.  “Now, it strikes me that Germany, facing the problem of fighting it out alone—­for she must see that Bulgaria’s action will soon be followed by her other allies—­may send out her fleet for a grand blow.”

Frank shook his head.

“Not a chance,” he said.

“But,” said Jack, “it has been the opinion of war critics and experts right along that Germany was saving her fleet for the final effort when all other means had failed.”

“I don’t care what the experts think,” declared Frank, “I don’t think the Germans will dare risk an engagement.  In the first place, it would be suicidal—­she would have everything to lose and nothing to gain.  Don’t fret.  The German naval authorities know just as well as we do what would happen to the German fleet should it issue from Helgoland.”

“Maybe you’re right,” said Jack, “but in the enemy’s place, I wouldn’t give up without a final effort.”

“That’s just it,” Frank explained.  “You wouldn’t, and neither would I. Neither, for that matter, would any British or American officer, nor French.  But the German is of different caliber.  He doesn’t fight half as well when he knows the odds are against him.  No, I believe that the German fleet will be virtually intact when the war ends.”

“Then we’ll take it away from them,” declared Jack.

“I’m sure I hope so.  It would be dangerous to the future peace of the world to allow the Germans to keep their vessels.”

“Well,” said Jack, “you can talk all you please, but you can’t convince me our work is over—­not until peace has been declared—­or an armistice signed, or something.”

“I agree with you there.  There will be plenty of work for us right up to the last minute.”

As it developed the lads were right.