“I am the pilot, sir,” Jack replied.

“Why, you’re a boy.”

“Guilty,” Jack responded.

“What does this fooling mean?  You’re not old enough to hold a pilot’s license.”

By this time Benson was on the deck, immediately under the bridge.  A half dozen sailors, forward, were eyeing him curiously.

“I have no license, sir,” Jack admitted.  “Neither has anyone else at Dunhaven.  For that matter, the harbor’s a private one, belonging to the shipyard.”

“Hasn’t Mr. Farnum a man he can send out!”

“No one who knows the harbor better than I do, sir.”

“Who are you?  What are you?”

“Jack Benson, sir.  Captain of the Pollard submarine boats.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that before!” The question came sharply, almost raspingly.

“Beg your pardon, sir, but you didn’t ask me,” Jack replied.

“Come up here, Benson,” ordered the lieutenant commander, in a loud voice intended to drown out the subdued titter of some of the sailors forward.

Jack ascended to the bridge, to find himself facing a six-footer in his early thirties.  There was a younger officer at the far end of the bridge.

“Does Mr. Farnum consider you capable of showing us the way into the harbor!” demanded the commanding officer of the “Hudson.”

“I think so, sir.  He trusts me with his own boats.”

“Then you are—­”

“Benson, Mr. Farnum’s captain of the submarine boats.”

Lieutenant Commander Mayhew gazed in astonishment for a moment, then held out his hand as he introduced himself, remarking: 

“I was told that I would find a very young submarine commander here, but—­”

“You didn’t expect to find one quite as young,” Jack finished, smiling.

“No; I didn’t.  Mr. Trahern, I want you to know Captain Jack Benson, of the Pollard submarines.”

Ensign Trahern also shook hands with young Benson.

“And now,” went on the commander of the “Hudson,” “I think you may as well show us the way into the harbor.”

“You’ll want to go at little more than headway, sir,” Jack replied.  “The harbor is small, though there’s enough deep water for you.  In parts there are some sand ledges that the tide washes up.”

“I can’t allow you to pilot us, exactly, but you’ll indicate the course to me, won’t you, Mr. Benson?”

The “mister” was noticeable, now.  Naval officers are chary of their bestowal of the title “captain” upon one who does not hold it in the Army or Navy service.

At Mr. Mayhew’s order the “Hudson” was started slowly forward, the searchlight playing about the entrance to the harbor.

“For your best anchorage, sir,” declared Captain Jack, after he had brought the gunboat slowly into the harbor, “you will do well to anchor with that main arc-light dead ahead, that shed over there on your starboard beam, and the front end of the submarine shed about four points off your port bow.”