“No more men go overboard!” bellowed Mr. Trahern.

Splash! splash!  The order had come too late to stop these last divers.  A solitary midshipman, hatless and with his blouse half off, stood beside the ensign, both of them knee-deep in discarded parts of uniform, while Eph peered out from the conning tower.

“That was kind of a mean trick, sir, to play on me!  I’m the only one that didn’t get-over,” grinned the last midshipman, sheepishly.

It was a gross violation of discipline, so to address an officer.  But Ensign Trahern merely smiled, for this once, as he replied: 

“Never mind, Mr. Satterlee.  You’ll be needed to stand by with me and help some of these venturesome ones aboard again.”

Jack’s start had been a good one, and he was a lusty swimmer.

He headed straight for the young woman, whose cries reached him across the water.

She could not swim, but her skirts, spreading, were buoying her up briefly.  When these skirts became thoroughly soaked they would fall, enclosing her in an envelope of considerable weight.

The brother, on the other hand, could swim a little.  He had begun to do so, instinctively, striking out for his sister.

Yet, before he could reach her, his buoyancy gave out, his limbs cramping.

With a despairing cry he sank.

“Tread water!  Tread!  Keep up until I reach you!” called Jack, clearly, as he fought on to reach the young woman.

Her skirts were beginning to fill and drop.  She might have trod water, but she did not understand how it was done.

“Help me!  I’m sinking!” she screamed, as she threw up her hands.  Then some of the water washed into her mouth.

“No; you’re not sinking, either!” shouted Jack, encouragingly, as he redoubled his efforts at water sprinting.

He darted in, catching at her with one hand just as the girl’s head sank under a wave.

In a jiffy Jack Benson had a secure hand-hold.

“Save me—­oh, save me!” choked the girl, in terror, as her head came once more above.

“Keep cool; do just as I tell you, and—­No!  Don’t grab me like that, or you may drown us both!” remonstrated the submarine boy.

But the girl acted as though possessed solely by the demon of terror.  She succeeded in wrapping both arms in a frenzy about the submarine boy.

“You must leave my arms free,” urged Jack, desperately, “or we shall go down together.”

He struggled, but her strength, in her despair, was something past belief.  Jack trod water while trying to make her understand.

It was of no use.  She clung the tighter.  There was but one course that would save time—­to strike her a blow on the forehead that would render her senseless.  But Jack could not bring himself to strike a woman.

As she felt herself going down the girl only wrapped her arms the more tightly about her would-be rescuer.