Jack hesitated.

“But I don’t know that I should,” he said.  “Lord Hastings——­”

“Go by all means,” said Lord Hastings.  “You have earned a rest and should take it.  Now I’ll see about the discharges at once, and as soon as you receive them, both of you take my advice and go to the United States.  That will give me additional time to look around, Jack.  And when you get there, stay until I send for you.”

“All right, sir,” said Jack with a smile.  “You’re still my superior officer, sir.  I must obey your commands.”

The three shook hands and Jack and Frank returned to the Essex.

CHAPTER XXX

HOME AT LAST

“Recognize that, Jack?” asked Frank, pointing across the water.

The lads were standing on the forward deck of a great trans-Atlantic liner that was edging its way into New York harbor.

Jack looked in the direction Frank indicated.

“Rather,” he said, “although I only saw it once before.  That’s the Statue of Liberty.”

“Right,” said Frank, “the emblem of that for which America went to war.”

“And the spirit for which we all fought,” Jack added.

“Exactly.  Well, it’s been a long time since I saw her.  I’m glad to see her again.”

It was morning of the last day of the year 1918.

True to his word, Lord Hastings had been able to secure discharges for the lads within two weeks after the surrender of the German fleet.  They accompanied Lord Hastings to London, where they remained some time at his home.  Frank, meanwhile, communicated with his father and announced that he would be home soon.  He did not give the exact date, for he wished his return to be a surprise.  And a surprise he knew it would be, as he now stood on the deck of the incoming liner.

The ship docked a short time later and Jack and Frank went ashore at once.  They took a taxi to the Grand Central station, where they caught a fast train for Boston.  It was night when they arrived there, but Frank determined to go out to his home in Woburn, ten miles from Boston, at once.

Accordingly they took an elevated train at the South Station.  This put them in the North Station ten minutes later, and Frank found that there was a train for Woburn in half an hour.

It was after dark when the lads alighted from the train in the little town of Woburn.  Jack had been there with Frank before, when the lads had crossed the Atlantic to New York soon after the United States entered the war.  Accordingly, he knew the way from the station to Frank’s home almost as well as the latter did himself.

“Know where you are?” asked Frank.

Jack grinned.

“I’ve been here once,” he said.  “That should answer that question.  You know my memory is pretty good.”

“Then you can show me which house I live in,” said Frank.