“What’s that?” demanded young Somers.  “Slang name for something else in the Jap wardrobe?”

“No; it’s the Jap way of fighting,” Captain Benson explained.  “And you want to remember, Eph, that’s it’s a mighty sudden system, too.  It hits like lightning.  When the smoke clears away you see a little Japanese bowing over you, and apologizing for having rudely tipped you over.”

“And little Cabbage-Jacko could do that?” Eph grinned, incredulously.  “Say, it’s wrong to tell me such funny things when I have a cracked lip.”

“All right,” sighed Jack.  “But at least you’ve been warned.”

Truth to tell, the young submarine commander wasn’t much worried about Eph’s deliberately provoking any fistic encounter with a fellow much smaller than himself.  In the first place, the carroty-haired boy wasn’t quarrelsome, unless actually driven into a fight.  At all times Somers was too manly to take out wrath on anyone merely up to his own shoulder height.

Nearly an hour later Jack Benson stepped through into the conning tower; then moved down the spiral staircase.

His rubber-soled deck shoes made no noise.  Thus it happened that the young submarine commander came upon the new steward most un expectedly, and without being seen by the little, brown man.

“Kamanako—­you scoundrel!” shouted the young captain, beside himself with sudden wrath.

For the Japanese, wholly absorbed in his present task, had deftly removed the gauge from the midships submergence apparatus, and was now dissecting the gauge itself, eyeing the parts with the knowing look of an expert.

At sound of the captain’s voice Kamanako wheeled calmly about, holding up the gauge.  The smile on the face of the Japanese was childlike and bland.

“This very queer thing,” he murmured.  “What for you use it—­thermometer.”

“No,” retorted Jack Benson, frigidly, eyeing the detected one.  “It’s a barometer, and it shows which way a meddler blows in!”

“I don’t understand,” remarked the Japanese, looking perplexed.

“Then I’ll help you to understand.  First of all, put that gauge down on the table!”

Kamanako did so, then made a little bow.

“Now,” continued Jack Benson, “take cap and go up on deck.”

“What shall I do there, Captain?” asked Kamanako, politely.

“Well, you’ll stand there until I see if you’ve done anything else on board.  If you haven’t, you can then take a boat to the shore—­and stay there.”

“What this mean, honorable Captain?” demanded Kamanako, a look of offense beginning to creep into his little, brown face.

“Well, if you must have it,” returned Benson, coldly, “it means that I’ve found you spying into our mechanisms here.  Now, a spy is a creature no one cares to have about—­least of all on a warship.”

“You call me spy—­call me ugly name like that?” cried Kamanako, showing his teeth.