One naval officer, however, was sceptical on the whole subject of submarine torpedo boats.  That gentleman was Lieutenant McCrea, of the huge battleship “Luzon.”

“Of course,” remarked Lieutenant MeCrea, “there’s a whole lot of good theory about what submarine torpedo boats can do.  In different naval evolutions, I admit, the submarines have made an excellent theoretical showing.  As far as can be determined in peaceful evolutions it looks as though the submarine might really be a source of great danger to a hostile battleship.

“But, in actual war, conditions are different from anything that can be planned during mere evolutions.  In war time the nerves of both officers and men are more keenly attuned.  So, in actual war, I think it very doubtful whether a submarine could succeed in getting up close to a big battleship, unseen, and delivering the mortal blow.”

That started a good deal of lively discussion.  A few of the Navy officers present favored Lieutenant McCrea’s view.  More, however, were inclined to the belief that, as time went on, the more and more perfected submarine torpedo boat would become a greater and greater danger to the battleship, very likely in the end driving the battleship from the navies of the world.

“Humph!” muttered Lieutenant McCrea.  “Lying here in the bay I am willing to admit that a submarine can sail under the hull of the vessel I’m stationed on.  But I’d like to see the submarine that could creep up alongside, showing ever so little of itself, even on the darkest night, without being detected.”

“You think, sir,” interposed Captain Jack, quietly, “that, if you were in command of the deck at the time, you’d detect any submarine boat that showed any portion of itself above the water?”

“Think?” retorted Lieutenant McCrea, with warmth.  “No; I don’t think anything of the sort.  I’d detect any such trick in time to turn a rapid fire gun loose on the venturesome submarine!”

“Every time, sir?” asked Jack, calmly.

“Every time!” retorted the lieutenant, with emphasis.

Young Benson was wise enough not to attempt to take too much of a part in the conversation with so many experienced naval officers present.  Yet he remained, listening, for the talk was highly instructive.

“I’ll have to go up and signal for my boat,” declared Lieutenant McCrea, rising, at last.  “I want a bit of sleep, for I’m watch officer on the ‘Luzon’ to-night, from dog watch to midnight.”

After the lieutenant had gone, Captain Jack suddenly rose, hastening to the platform deck, where Hal Hastings stood on watch.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Hal, looking keenly at his chum.

“Why?”

“Why, your face is nearly all one broad grin.”

“Oh, I’m thinking a bit,” Jack answered, evasively.

“Happy thoughts, then,” mocked Hastings, amiably.  “I can tell by the grinful look of your face.”