“What’s been done to them?” demanded Eph.

“The same old knockout drops, sir, that sailors in all parts of the world know so well, sir, I think,” answered one of the men, with a quiet grin.

“Humph!” gritted Eph, bending over Jack’s face.  “Smell his breath.”

“Yes, sir,” said the sailor, obeying.

“There’s no smell of liquor, there, is there?”

“No, sir,” admitted the sailor, looking up, rather puzzled.

“There is some infernally mean trick in all this,” growled Eph.  “I am mighty sorry we didn’t bring those rascals back with us.”

When he went on deck again the submarine boy relieved Mr. Terrell at the wheel, completing the run in to moorings.

“Did you find your comrades aboard the sloop, Mr. Somers?” hailed the lieutenant commander, from the gunboat.

“Yes, sir.”

“Are they all right?”

“Drugged, sir.”

“Hm!  Mr. Terrell and his detachment will return to this vessel.”

The boat took them away.  It was five minutes later when the boat returned, bringing the lieutenant commander, Doctor McCrea, the surgeon, and a sailor belonging to the hospital detachment aboard the “Hudson.”  Eph conducted them below.

“Drugged,” announced the medical officer, after a brief examination.

“Humph!” uttered Mr. Mayhew.  “That sort of trick isn’t played on folks in any decent resort on shore.  I don’t understand Mr. Benson’s conduct.  I remember his mishap at Dunhaven.  I remember the plight he got into at Annapolis; and now he and Mr. Hastings are found in this questionable shape.  I am very much afraid these young men do not conduct themselves, on shore, in the careful manner that must be expected of civilian instructors to cadets.”

Eph somers felt something boiling up inside of him.

CHAPTER XIX

THE LIEUTENANT COMMANDER’S VERDICT

“Let me try to get at your meaning, sir, if you please,” begged Somers, after standing for a few seconds with clenched fists.  “Do you mean that my friends have been going into tough resorts on shore?”

“Where else do sailors usually get drugged?” inquired Mr. Mayhew.  “What kind of people usually feed sea-faring men with what are generally known as knock-out drops?”

“How should I know?” demanded Eph, solemnly.

“You see your friends, and you see their condition.”

“Smell their breaths, sir.  There isn’t a trace of the odor of liquor.”

The surgeon did so, confirming Eph’s claim.  “But I remember that Mr. Benson came aboard, at Dunhaven, with a very strong odor of liquor,” continued the lieutenant commander.

“That had been sprinkled on his clothes, sir,” argued Somers.

“Perhaps.  But then there was the Annapolis affair.”

“Mr. Benson explained that to you, sir.”