“We’re awash, sir”

Benson drove the water from the tanks aft, and the boat rode the waves.

“Now, let us see you run a little lower than awash, with just enough of the conning tower in the air for the helmsman to see where he is steering,” proposed the president of the board.

Jack went above to relieve Eph at the wheel, while Commander Ennerling stationed himself beside the boy.

“You may use your searchlight, of course,” proposed the commander, “and proceed just as though you were trying to pick up a battleship of the enemy without much exposing yourself.”

As the broad, bright beam of the searchlight shone out over the waters ahead, Captain Benson called down for the best speed.

Commander Ennerling watched the boat’s performance, and the work of the young captain for some minutes before he said: 

“Benson, I’ll admit that the more I see of this craft the more anxious I am to see her under our Navy flag.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that, sir,” cried Jack, his face glowing.

“Yet I’m a bit puzzled, after all.”

“How so, sir?”

“Why, the more I think about it, the more I wonder just how much of my delight and interest are due to the boat itself, and how much to the splendidly expert way in which you young men handle her.”

“You call us experts, sir?”

“Don’t you believe, yourselves, that you are?”

“We hope that some day we shall be,” was Jack’s slow response.

“Benson,” went on the Navy officer, earnestly, “if you’re not now experts, you never will be.”

“Does that mean, sir, that we shall never know much more about such craft than we do now?”

“By no means.  You’ll know more every year that you stick to the work.  What I intended to convey is that you three are the best experts in this line I have ever seen, considering, of course, the amount of time you have already given to this work.  Give you three lads time enough, and the United States appears destined to possess the three greatest submarine experts in the world.”

“That’s great praise, sir,” said Jack, quietly, his cheeks tingling.

“I mean all I’ve said,” rejoined Commander Ennerling, gravely.

They had run some miles by this time.  Captain Jack, reaching up to swing the searchlight about over the course ahead, suddenly uttered: 

“Look over there, sir—­two points off starboard.  What do you make out?”

Commander Ennerling instantly became absorbed as he caught sight of a steam yacht something more than a mile away.

“Going under full power, but shooting rockets,” added Jack.  “They’ve just sent up two from aft.”

“Distress sign, without a doubt,” mused the Naval officer.  “Wonder what it means?”

Jack had reached for a pair of night glasses, which he now handed Commander Ennerling.

Already the “Pollard” had swung to a bow-on course and was making straight for the steam yacht.