Accustomed as he was to sea motion, the slight roll of the “Farnum” did not bother the young skipper much.  He soon reached the bottom of the short spiral stairway leading up into the conning tower.  Up there, in the helmsman’s seat, he espied Hal Hastings with his hands employed at the steering apparatus.  Hal was looking out over the water, straight ahead.

“Sailing these days without word from your captain, eh?” Jack called, in a voice that carried, though it shook.

“Gracious—­you?” ejaculated Hal, looking down for an instant.  Then Hastings pressed a button connecting with a bell in the engine room.

“I’m going up there with you,” Jack volunteered.

“Right-o, if you insist,” clicked Eph Somers, appearing from the engine room and darting to the young skipper’s side.  True, Jack’s head swam a bit dizzily as he climbed the stairs, but Eph’s strong support made the task much easier.  There was space to spare on the seat beside Hal, and into this Jack Benson sank.

“Say, you ought to sleep until afternoon,” was Hastings’s next greeting, but Jack was looking out of the conning tower at the scene around him.

The three craft were leaving the coast directly behind.  About three hundred yards away, abeam, steamed the “Hudson” at a nine-knot gait.

“The ‘Pollard’ is on the other side of the gunboat, isn’t she?” asked Jack.

“Yes,” Hal nodded.

“Naval crew aboard her?”

“Yes; Government has taken full possession of the ‘Pollard.’”

“Who’s running this boat?  Just you and Eph?”

“No; that new man, Truax, is on board, and at the last moment Mr. Farnum put Williamson, one of the machinists, aboard, also.  You can send Williamson back from Annapolis whenever you’re through with him.”

“Williamson is all right,” nodded Jack, slowly.  “But how about Truax?”

“I think he’s going to be a useful man,” Hal responded.  “He seems familiar with our type of engines.  Of course, he knows nothing about the apparatus for submerging the boat or making it dive.  But he doesn’t need to.  Now, Jack, old fellow, we’re going along all right.  Why not let Eph help you back to your bunk, or one of the seats in the cabin, and have your sleep out?”

“I’ve had it out,” Benson declared, with a laugh.  “I’m ready, now, to take my trick at the wheel.”

“Nonsense,” retorted Hal Hastings.  “I’ve been here a bare quarter of an hour, and I’m good for more work than that.  Jack, you’re nothing but a fifth wheel.  You’re not needed; won’t be all day, and at night we anchor in some harbor down the coast.  Go and rest, like a good fellow.”

“Can’t rest, when I know I’m doing nothing,” Benson retorted, stubbornly.  “Besides, this is the first time I’ve ever found myself moving along in regular formation with the United States Navy.  I feel almost as if I were a Navy officer myself, and I mean to make the most of the sensation.  Say, Hal, wouldn’t it be fine if we really did belong to the Navy?”