“What ails you, Truax?  You heard the captain’s order.  You’ll go with me.”

“Don’t be too sure of that,” uttered Sam Truax, defiantly.

“If you don’t go above with me, and if you don’t follow every order you get aboard this boat, I know where you will go,” muttered Eph, decisively.

“Where?” jeered Sam.

“Ashore—­in the first boat that can take you there.”

“You seem to forget that I’m on board by David Pollard’s order,” sneered Truax.

“All I am sure of,” retorted Eph, “is that Jack Benson is captain on board this craft.  That means that he’s sole judge of everything here when this boat is cruising.  If you were here by the orders of both owners, Jack Benson would fire you ashore for good, just the same, after you’ve balked at the first order.”

“Humph!  I—­”

Clang!  Jangle!  The signal bell was sounding.

“Shut up,” ordered Eph Somers, briskly.  “I’ve got the engine to run on signal from the watch officer.”

There followed a series of signals, first of all for stopping speed, then for a brief reversing of engines.  A moment later headway speed ahead was ordered.  So on Eph went through the series of orders until the “Farnum” had been manoeuvred to her exact position.  Then, from above, Captain Jack’s voice was heard, roaring in almost his usual tones: 

“Turn out below, there, to help make fast!”

“Take the lever, Williamson,” directed Eph.  “Come along lively, Truax.”

“Humph!  Let Williamson go,” grumbled Truax.

“You come along with me, my man!” roared Eph, his face blazing angrily.  “Hustle, too, or I’ll report you to the captain for disobedience of orders.  Then you’ll go ashore at express speed.  Coming?”

Sam Truax appeared to wage a very brief battle within himself.  Then, nodding sulkily, he followed.

“Hustle up, there!” Jack shouted down.  “We don’t want to drift.”

Jack Benson stood out on the platform deck, holding to the conning tower at the port side.  A naval launch had just placed a buoy over an anchor that had been lowered.

“Get forward, you two,” Jack called briskly, “and make the bow cable fast to that buoy.”

Hal still sat at the wheel in the tower.  As Eph and Truax crept forward over the arched upper hull of the “Farnum,” Hal sounded the engine room signals and steered until the boat had gotten close enough to make the bow cable fast.  Then the stern cable was made fast, with more line, to another buoy.

“A neat hitch, Mr. Benson,” came a voice from the bridge of the “Hudson,” which lay a short distance away.  Jack, looking up, saw Lieutenant Commander Mayhew leaning over the bridge rail.

“Thank you, sir,” Jack acknowledged, saluting the naval officer.

The parent vessel and her two submarine charges now lay at anchor in the harbor at Port Clovis, one of the towns down the coast from Dunhaven.  This mooring overnight was to be repeated each day until Annapolis should be reached.