far in the west, what is that?  Smoke, or a cloud?  In two minutes there is no longer any doubt; in three minutes the shapes of a squadron of battleships can be clearly seen; in five minutes Smith’s practised eyes, now that he has descended, can distinguish the Imperturbable, flying the admiral’s flag, among what to a landsman would appear to be a dozen exactly similar vessels.  Glancing back, he sees that the Red Scout has changed her course, and is already only a speck in the southern sky.

It was precisely ten minutes to nine by Smith’s watch when the Puck, literally received with open arms by two-score sturdy tars, alighted on the deck of the Imperturbable.

“Come aboard, sir,” said Smith cheerfully to his captain.

“So I see,” was the laconic reply.

“Sorry I was away, sir, when your recall arrived—­in the South Pacific.”

“In the—­what?”

“The South Pacific, sir, or thereabouts.”

“Don’t you think, Mr. Smith, you are going a little too far?” said the captain sternly.

“Well, sir,” replied Smith naively, “it was a goodish distance.  But I have managed to get back within my leave.  Ten minutes to spare, sir.”

Captain Bolitho gasped.

“Do you mean to tell me, seriously, you have been to the South Pacific?”

“Certainly, sir.  I left home about midnight last Thursday, and got back not quite nine hours ago.  Went to the Solomon Islands via Penang and Port Darwin, and come home via Samoa and ’Frisco.”

“But—­but—­then you have been round the world, sir—­in how long?”

“Seven days, sir.  My leave expires at nine this morning.”

Mechanically, like a man in a dream, the captain took out his watch.

“Twenty-five minutes past eight,” he said.  “You needn’t have hurried yourself.  You’ve another half-hour by Irish time.  Perhaps you’d like to fill it up by a trip round Ireland,” he added dryly.

Smith smiled.  The first lieutenant broke in—­

“Look-out reports, sir, another aeroplane was sighted behind Mr. Smith’s.”

The admiral, who had been an amused auditor of the colloquy between Captain Bolitho and his lieutenant, was a man of intuitions.

“There are no aeroplanes on this coast except the two with the Reds,” he said.  “Mr. Smith, you have now reported yourself for duty.  Our single aeroplane has broken down; we must impress yours for public service.  I will not ask you what you have seen; but you will at once follow the strange aeroplane, and endeavour to find out the position and course of the enemy’s fleet.”

In less than a minute Smith was in the air; in ten minutes he had overtaken the Red aeroplane, flying high as he approached, and hovering over his late pursuer, who made vain efforts to rise above him.  The immense engine power of the Puck gave her as great an advantage over her rival in soaring as in horizontal speed.  By the rules of the manoeuvres the Red aeroplane was out of action as soon as the Puck rose vertically above her.  Wasting no further time, Smith continued his course, and in half-an-hour sighted the Red squadron, noted its strength and course, and in another half-hour was back on the deck of the Imperturbable.