“Then, sir, we’d like to spend a little time ashore, as we’ve been confined so long aboard.  If I lock up everything tight on the boat until Sunday night, may we know that the ‘Farnum’ will be under the protection of the marine guard?”

“I feel that there will not be the slightest difficulty in promising you that,” replied Mr. Mayhew.  “I will telephone the proper authorities about it as soon as I go on shore.”

All hands on board were pleased over the prospect of going ashore, with the exception of Sam Truax.

“You don’t need any guard on the boat,” he protested.  “I don’t want to go ashore.  Leave me here and I’ll be all the guard necessary.”

“We’re all going ashore,” Jack replied.

“But I haven’t any money to spend ashore,” objected Truax.

“I’ll let you have ten dollars on account, then,” replied Jack, who was well supplied with money, thanks to a draft received from Jacob Farnum.

“I don’t want to go ashore, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, Truax, but it doesn’t really make any difference.  The boat will be closed up tight, and there wouldn’t be any place for you to stay, except on the platform deck.”

“You’re not treating me fairly,” protested Sam Truax, indignantly.

“I’m sorry you think so.  Still, if you’re not satisfied, all I can do is to pay you off to date.  Then you can go where you please.”

“I’m here by David Pollard’s order.  Do you forget that?”

“He sent you along to us, true,” admitted Jack, “but I have instructions from Mr. Farnum to dismiss anyone whose work on board I don’t like.  Now, Truax, you’re a competent enough man in the engine room, and there’s no sense in having to let you go.  You’re well paid, and can afford the time on shore.  I wouldn’t make any more fuss about this, but do as the rest of us are going to do.”

“Oh, I’ll have to, then, since you’re boss here,” grumbled Truax, sulkily.

“I don’t want to make it felt too much that I am boss here,” Jack retorted, mildly.  “At the same time, though, I’m held responsible, and so I suppose I’ll have to have things done the way that seems best to me.”

Sam Truax turned to get his satchel.  The instant his back was turned on the young commander Sam’s face was a study in ugliness.

“Oh, I’ll take this all out of you,” muttered the fellow to himself.  “I don’t believe, Jack Benson, you’ll go on the cruising next week.  If you do, you won’t be much good, anyway!”

Ten minutes later a shore boat landed the entire party from the submarine craft.

“Going with the rest of us, Truax?” inquired Jack, pleasantly.

“No; I’m going to find a boarding-house.  That will be cheaper than the hotel.”

So the other four kept straight on to the Maryland House, giving very little more thought to the sulky one.

It was not until after supper that Eph turned the talk back to Sam Truax.