That remark, coming just as the band ceased its strains, was plainly audible, and brought a laugh from everyone aboard the submarine, including Eph, who was just climbing, in his bathing suit, up to the platform deck.

Lieutenant Commander Kimball, hurrying from his cabin, had joined Lieutenant Featherstone at the rail, the pretty girl slipping away to join a group of civilians.

“What do you think of us?” called Jacob Farnum, a broad grin of delight on his face.

“You’ll do,” admitted Kimball.

“Do you consider yourself sunk?” demanded David Pollard, laughingly.

“Theoretically, yes,” assented Lieutenant Commander Kimball.  “I wonder if you could do it as well in war time?”

“Couldn’t possibly do anything like it in war time,” called back Captain Jack Benson.  “For, sir, you fly the Stars and, Stripes!”

That was a happy speech, delivered at just the right second.  It set all within hearing to cheering again.  And then the thousands beyond caught it up.

“I’ll say this much,” shouted back Lieutenant Commander Kimball, as soon as he could make himself heard:  “We’d rather have you with us, Mr. Benson, than against us.”

“You’ll have your wish, sir, as long as I’m alive,” Jack answered, turning and lifting his hat in simple yet eloquent salute to the Flag waving at the gunboat’s stern.

All this time Hal Hastings stood by the deck wheel, one hand occasionally straying to the engine room signal buttons, as he kept the “Benson” just about a hundred feet from the gunboat and nearly abeam.

“Where shall I anchor, sir?” called Captain Jack, presently.

“Better take it about four points off our port bow and at least four hundred feet away, Mr. Benson,” called back the lieutenant commander.

“Four points off port and four hundred feet it is, sir,” answered the young submarine skipper, saluting.  Then he gave the order to Hal.

“As soon as you’re anchored, I’ll send you over a boat to be at your disposal this afternoon,” called Lieutenant Commander Kimball.

“We’ll use the boat, sir, to pay you a visit, if you permit,” Jack shouted back.

“By all means come aboard.  Then we’ll visit you.  We’re anxious to see the works of such a wonderful little craft.”

Within ten minutes a man-o-war’s cutter was alongside, rowed by six alert-looking young sailors, while a coxswain held the tiller ropes.

Messrs. Farnum and Pollard, Jack and Hal made up the visiting party, leaving Eph Somers aboard the submarine, with Williamson to help him at need.

Cordial, indeed, was the reception of the submarine folks aboard the gunboat.  There was a great amount of handshaking to be done.

In the meantime, Eph Somers was having something in the way of trouble back on the platform deck of the “Benson.”

Two small boats, manned by harbor boatmen, and each carrying a few passengers, had put off from shore, and now ranged alongside.