E-text prepared by Jim Ludwig

Note: This is book six of eight of the Submarine Boys Series.

THE SUBMARINE BOYS FOR THE FLAG

Deeding Their Lives to Uncle Sam

by

VICTOR G. DURHAM

1910

CONTENTS

CHAPTERS
I. "Do You Speak German?"
II. "French Spoken Here"
III. The Man Who Marked Charts
IV. Jack's Queer Lot of Loot
V. Sighting the Enemy
VI. Flank Movement and Rear Attack
VII. A Lesson in Security and Information
VIII. Eph Feels Like Thirty Tacks
IX. Jack Plays with a Volcano
X. "Mr. Grey" Makes New Trouble
XI. Facing the Secretary of the Navy
XII. Navy Officers for an Hour or a Day
XIII. Commander of a U.S. Gunboat!
XIV. The Bow Gun Booms and Eph Puts Off
XV. "The Right Boat and the Right Crew!"
XVI. The Duel Through the Door
XVII. The Last Hour of Command
XVIII. Eph Bets an Anchor Against a Fish-Hook
XIX. Jack's Caller at the United Service Club
XX. The Girl in the Car
XXI. Daisy Huston Decides for the Flag
XXII. The Part of Abercrombie R.N.
XXIII. "Foreign Trade" Becomes Brisk
XXIV. Their Lives Deeded to the Flag

CHAPTER I

"DO YOU SPEAK GERMAN?"

"Hey, there, Mister!" called out Jabez Holt, from one of the two office windows in the little hotel at Dunhaven.

As there was only one other man in the office, that other man guessed that he might be the one addressed.

With a slight German accent the stranger, who was well-dressed, and looked like a prosperous as well as an educated man, turned and demanded:

"You are calling me?"

"I reckon," nodded Jabez.

"Then my name is Herr Professor—"

"Hair professor?" repeated Jabez Holt, a bit of astonishment showing in his wrinkled old face. "Hair professor? Barber, eh? Why, I thought you was a traveler. But hurry up over here—do you hear me?"

"My good man," began the German, stiffly, drawing himself up to his full six-foot-one, "it is not often I am affronted by being addressed so—"

"There! He'll be outer sight in another minute, while you are arguin' about your dignity!" muttered Holt. "And that's the feller you said you wanted to see—Jack Benson."

"Benson?" cried the German, forgetting his outraged dignity and springing forward. "Benson?"

"That's him—almost up to the corner," nodded Landlord Jabez Holt.

"Run out and bring him back with you," directed Herr Professor Radberg.
"Be quick!"

"Waal, I guess you're spryer'n I be," returned old Jabez, with a shrewd look at his guest. "Besides, it's you that wants the boy."

Running back and snatching up his hat, Professor Radberg made for the street without further argument.

Moving along hastily, the German soon came in sight of young Captain Jack
Benson, of the Pollard Submarine Torpedo Boat Company.

"Ach, there! Herr Benson!" shouted the Professor.

Hearing the hail, Jack Benson turned, then halted.

"You are Herr Benson, are you not?" demanded Professor Radberg, as soon as he got close enough.

"Benson is my name," nodded Jack, pleasantly.

"Then come back to the hotel with me."

"You are a foreigner, aren't you?" asked Jack, surveying the stranger coolly.

"I am German," replied Radberg, in a tone of surprise.

"I thought so," nodded the boy. "That is, I didn't know from what country you came. But, in this country, when we ask a favor of a stranger, we usually say 'please.'"

"I am Herr Professor—"

"Oh, barbers are just as polite as other folks," Jack assured him, his laughing eyes resting on the somewhat bewildered-looking face of the German.

"Then please, Herr Benson, come back to the hotel with me."

"Yes; if it's really necessary. But why do you want to go to the hotel?"

"Because, Herr Benson, when we are there, I shall have much of importance to say to you."

"Important to me, or to you?" asked Jack, thoughtfully.

He had no intention of answering a much older man disrespectfully. But there was about Herr Radberg the air of a man who expects his greatness to be recognized at a glance, and who demands obedience from common people as a right. This sort of thing didn't fit well with the American boy.

"Oh, it is important to you, and very much so," urged the Professor, somewhat more anxiously. "Besides," added the German, with a now really engaging smile, "I have met your demand, Herr Benson, and have said 'please.'"

"Then I suppose I'll have to meet your demand," nodded Jack, good-humoredly. "Lead the way, sir."

"Ach! You may walk at my side," permitted the German.

It all seemed a bit strange, but Captain Jack Benson had been through more strange experiences than had most Americans of twice or thrice his age. Besides, as he walked beside Herr Professor Radberg Jack imagined that he had guessed at least an inkling of the other's business. The German had announced himself as a professor; probably, therefore, he was a scientist. Being a scientist, the Professor had very likely invented, or nearly invented something intended for use in connection with submarine torpedo boats, and wanted to interest the concern by which the young submarine skipper was employed. Though this guess was a reasonable one, it soon turned out to be the wrong one. The Professor's real reason for seeking this interview was one that was bound to take the submarine boy almost off his feet.

Readers of the preceding volumes in this series need no introduction to Captain Jack Benson, nor to his chums, Hal Hastings and Eph Somers. Such readers recall, as told in "The Submarine Boys on Duty," how Jack and Hal drifted into Dunhaven just at the right moment to fight for an opportunity to work themselves into the submarine boat building business. How the boys helped build the first of the now famous Pollard submarines, and afterwards learned how to man her, was all told, together with all their strange adventures in their new life.

In the "The Submarine Boys' Trial Trip" was related how Jack Benson solved the problem of leaving a submarine boat when it lay on the ocean's bottom, and also the trick of entering that submerged boat again, after diving from the surface of the water. The attempt of shrewd business men to secure control of the new submarine boat company was also described, together with the manner in which the submarine boys outwitted them. Through a successful trial trip, and Captain Jack's ingenious ways of arousing public interest, the government was forced to buy the "Pollard," as the first of the submarines was named.

In "The Submarine Boys and the Middies" was narrated how the submarine boys secured the prize detail of going to the Naval Academy at Annapolis as temporary instructors in submarine boating. Many startling adventures, and some humorous ones, were related in that volume.

Then in "The Submarine Boys and the Spies" was shown how the young men successfully foiled the efforts of spies of foreign governments to learn the secrets of the Pollard craft.

In "The Submarine Boys' Lightning Cruise" the adventures of these clever, enterprising boys were carried further. In this book, was told how the boys were trained in the handling of the actual torpedo of, warfare. The Pollard boats, "Benson" and "Hastings" were entered in official government tests in which the submarine craft of several other makes competed. The desperate lengths to which the nearest rival of the Pollards went in order to win were told with startling accuracy. The result of all these tests was that the Pollard company received from the Navy Department an order for eighteen submarine torpedo boats, the "Benson" and the "Hastings" being accepted as the first two boats on that order.

By the time the present narrative opens it was near the first of May. Over at the shipyard, where facilities had been greatly increased, two of the submarines had lately been finished, and four more were under way in long construction sheds. Work on the government's order was being rushed as fast as could be done while keeping up the Pollard standards, of high-class work.

Of late Jack and his young friends, though their pay went on, had little work to do. Whenever a new boat was completed it was the task of the submarine boys to take her out to sea and put her through all manner of tests in order to determine her fitness. But there were days and days when the submarine boys had naught to do but enjoy themselves as their fancy dictated.

"Shall we sit down here?" asked Jack, as he and the tall German entered the hotel office.

Jabez Holt stood behind the desk, bent over the register, on which the Professor's name had been the only new one in a week. The old landlord pretended to be busy, but he was covertly watching and listening.

"Sit here?" repeated Professor Radberg. "Ach, no! Come along with me."

There was something rather disagreeably commanding in the German's invitation, but Jack merely smiled quietly as he followed in the stranger's wake. Up the stairs they went. The Professor unlocked a door, admitting himself and his guest to the outer of a suite of two rooms. Once they were inside Radberg locked the door behind them.

"Come to the other room, Herr Benson," directed the Professor. The door of this inner room the German also locked, remarking:

"Now, if the man, Holt, chooses to follow and listen, he can hear nothing."

"All this sounds mighty mysterious," laughed Jack Benson, good-humoredly.

However, the submarine boy went and stood by a chair near the window and then waited until he saw that the stranger was about to seat himself.

"Now," asked Jack, stretching his legs, "what's the business about? I haven't a whole lot of time to-day."

"Listen, and you shall hear, as soon as I am ready," came, stiffly, from the stranger. "You are a boy, and I am Herr Professor—"

"Oh, you told me all about being a hair professor before," smiled Jack. "Now, see here. Whether you're really a barber, or whether you're just amusing yourself with me, we want to have one thing understood. I came here, sir, as a matter of courtesy to you, and you will have to treat me with just as much courtesy. Otherwise, I shall wish you good-morning."

This was said with a flash of the eye which warned Radberg that, in his rather overbearing way, he was going too for.

"Oh, my dear young friend," he replied, persuasively, "you don't understand. In Germany I am—well, perhaps what you would call a rather distinguished man. At least, my neighbors are good enough to say so. And, in Germany, when a herr professor talks, others listen respectfully."

"Just the same way with the hair professors in this country," chuckled Jack. "When an American barber gets wound up and started, all a fellow can do is to listen. It's no use trying to run away from a barber anywhere, I guess. He has you strapped down to the chair."

"Barber?" repeated Professor Radberg, in disgust. "I don't understand you."

"Oh, it isn't necessary," laughed Jack. "It's a sort of Yankee joke. And I beg your pardon, Professor, if I am wasting your time. Now, go ahead, please, and tell me why you invited me here."

There was something of salt water breeziness and crispness about Jack's speech that caused the German's brow to cloud for an instant. Then, after a visible effort to compose himself, Radberg leaned forward to ask:

"Do you speak German?"

"No, sir." Jack shook his head.

"Ach, that is too bad!" muttered the German, in a voice suggesting severe disapproval of one who hadn't mastered his own native tongue. "However, you will soon learn."

"Yes; if there's a big enough prize goes with it," agreed Jack.

"Prize?" repeated Professor Radberg. "You will say so!"

Then, leaning forward once more, and speaking in his most impressive voice, Herr Professor Radberg continued:

"Herr Benson, we are going to take you into the German Navy!"

The Professor now leaned back to watch the effect of his words.

"Are you going to do it when I'm awake?" asked Jack, curiously.

"Nein! I do not understand you."

"Are you going to take me in by force, or wait until you catch me asleep?" questioned Captain Jack Benson.

"Ach! Do not be silly, boy!"

"I might say the same to you, Professor," replied Jack Benson, composedly, "but we'll let it pass. How are you going to get me into the German Navy, and what are you going to do with me after you get me there?"

"How?" cried Professor Radberg. "Why we are going to pay you a very handsome sum of money, and we are going to give you a most honorable position in our imperial service. And—"

Here Professor Radberg leaned forward once more, lowering his voice considerably.

"There are three of you boys, all experts at the Pollard works. Well, we are going to take all three of you into the German navy, and we will do something very handsome for you all."

"The other fellows will be delighted when I tell 'em what's coming their way," smiled Captain Jack.

"Ach! So? Of course."

"Now, what do you propose to do with us in your navy?" Jack went on.
"Are you going to make officers of us?"

"Officers?" repeated Herr Professor Radberg, slowly. "Well, no, Herr Benson. We could not exactly do that. Our officers are, as you will understand, very—what is your English word?—aristocratic. They could not be quite persuaded to take American commoners as their brother officers. That you would not expect, of course."

"Certainly not," young Benson agreed. If there was a slight tinge of sarcasm in his it was lost on the German, whose brow cleared as he went on, heavily:

"No, no, my young friend; not officers. But you shall all three have very honorable positions, and handsome sums of money to pay you for entering our service. We in Germany know the rank which you young men have won as submarine experts, and we shall not be niggardly, for we have determined to have you in our service."

"I hope you'll pardon me," proposed young Benson. "There is just one point that has been overlooked. You tell me that you are authorized to come to Dunhaven and kidnap my friends and myself. But, really, how do I know that you have such authority from your own side of the water?"

Radberg looked a bit puzzled, for a moment. Then, as he seemed to begin to comprehend, he replied, heavily:

"Herr Benson, I have already told you that I am Herr Professor—"

"Now, don't hang out the striped pole again, please," urged Jack, his face as sober as that of a judge. "Come right down to the points of the compass. How am I to know that you really do represent the German government?"

"Ach! I comprehend," nodded the German. "Of course you will understand
that, on an errand of this kind, I do not travel with too many papers.
But I shall take you and your two companions on to Washington to-morrow,
I think—"

"To-morrow ought to do as well as any time," replied Jack, ironically.

"Yes; I think it will be to-morrow," continued the German. "I shall take you to our German Embassy, and one of our officials there will prove to you that I have been acting with authority."

"That'll be right fine of him," agreed Jack, placidly.

"Ach! It is settled, then," replied the German, all but dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand. "Yet you must bring your two comrades here. They must understand just what is wanted of them. And now, Herr Benson, do you wish to understand what is to be paid to you to transfer your services to our German flag?"

"Why, yes; that will be mighty important—if we go under the German flag."

"If you go?" repeated the Professor. "Why, that is all settled!"

"Then I must have missed something, by not watching you closely enough," murmured Jack. "I shall have to sit up straighter and keep my eyes wider open. When was it all settled, sir?"

"Why, did you not tell me—"

"Haven't had a blessed chance to tell you anything," replied Jack, looking astonished. "You've been doing all the telling."

"But you'll go with me, of course, to Washington?" uttered Radberg, looking much taken aback.

"I doubt it," muttered young Benson, shaking his head. "In fact, sir, I may as well tell you that it's waste of our time to carry this line of talk any further."

"Ach! You are cunning," smiled Professor Radberg, no longer nonplussed.
"That is as it should be, too, for you are a clever young man, Herr
Benson."

"A thousand thanks," murmured Captain Jack.

"But, instead of talk," pursued the German, "you wish to see some money. Quite right! I should, were I in your place, Herr Benson. Well, then—ach! Look at this."

Thrusting a fat hand down deep in a trousers pocket, Herr Professor Radberg brought up into view a big roll of money. He held this up so that the submarine boy could feast his eyes on it. Jack looked, composedly.

"Did you ever see anything like this—you, who are such a young boy?" smiled the German, teasingly.

"I—I don't know, really," responded Jack, thoughtfully, thrusting a hand down into his own trousers pocket. Young Benson brought up into the light a very comfortable looking handful of banknotes, rolled and surrounded by a broad elastic band. "Let's measure the two, Professor, and see how they compare."

"Ach!" muttered the German, regarding Jack's money with some displeasure.
"Where did you get all that?"

"Oh, now, Professor!" cried the young submarine captain, reproachfully.
"I didn't ask you where you got yours!"

"Ach! This is all so much foolishness!" cried the German Professor, returning his money to his pocket.

"That's what I think, too," agreed Jack, following suit. "It's what our
English cousins call 'bad form,' to go to comparing piles of money."

"Now, sit down, Herr Benson, and I will tell you what a very handsome sum of money, and what excellent wages, the German government will pay you to enter our imperial naval service."

"How much money is there in Germany?" interrupted the submarine boy, thoughtfully.

"How much, in all Germany?" demanded the Professor. "Nein! How should
I know?"

"You expect me, of course, to turn my back on this country for good, to tell you Germans whatever I may know about submarine secrets, to drill with your navy, and be prepared to fight in your navy if war comes?"

"Ach, yes! of course," replied Radberg. "Now, we are beginning to understand one another."

"Professor," interrupted Captain Jack Benson, "we've had enough of joking."

"Joking? I assure you—"

"Professor," once more broke in the submarine boy, "I wouldn't sell out my country's flag for all the money you ever saw!"

For a few moments the Professor's face was a study in consternation.
Then he broke forth, angrily:

"Ach! You are a fool!"

"I guess so," nodded Jack, without resentment. "That's just the kind of fools we Americans are generally."

Herr Radberg was a good enough reader of human faces to realize that, at all events, there was no use in continuing the conversation at present.

"Very good," he growled. "You can go. I shall see your friends, instead."

"When you get through with 'em you'll think they're idiots," grinned
Captain Jack Benson.

Herr Radberg wasn't a fool. Neither was he a rascal, expert in offering bribes. Brought up within the wall's of a German university, he would have been willing to lay down his life instantly for the good of the Fatherland. Yet he couldn't understand that men of other nations could be just as devoted to their own countries. From Herr Professor Radberg's point of view Germany was the only country in the world that was fitted to inspire a real and deep sense of patriotism.

"No harm done, Professor," said Jack, moving toward the door, and turning the key to unlock it. "I'm sorry you had all the trouble and expense of coming to Dunhaven on a useless errand. Good-bye!"

"Ach! You may go, but you will come back," scowled the other. "If not, your comrades will, I hope, prove to be young men of better sense and judgment."

"Oh, they'll listen to you," smiled Jack. "Good-bye!"

"I shall have two of you, anyway," were Radberg's last words before the door of the outer room closed and Jack's footsteps sounded in the corridor.

CHAPTER II

"FRENCH SPOKEN HERE"

"Well, what do you think of that?"

It was Eph Somers who put the question, and the time was some fifteen minutes later.

Captain Jack had met his two comrades up on the main street of the village. He had told them, with a good deal of amusement, of his late talk with the German.

Hal Hastings didn't say a word, but his eyes twinkled.

"I wouldn't have minded," laughed Jack, "but it was the Professor's cock-sureness that I was to be Germany's oyster."

"Is he an old man?" asked Hal.

"Not very," Jack answered. "Perhaps not old enough to know better. Anyway, if I were going to a foreign government, Germany would be about the last country. Germany is our rival in building a large navy. About every other month the experts in Germany sit down to figure whether they are anything ahead of us in the tonnage of warships, and, if so, whether there is any danger of our catching up with them. Now, unless the Germans have a notion that they may need, to fight us one of these days—"

"Oh, I don't believe anything of that sort," broke in Hal, shaking his head. "I don't believe any country in the world is aching to pick a quarrel with us."

"Not while the United States pocket-book is such a fat one, and so well built for paying war expenses," grinned Eph. Then his look became more solemn, as he added:

"But we don't want ever to get into a naval condition where it will be easy for some other country to snatch that fat pocket-book out of our hands."

"Let's go along, fellows. Drowning and confusion to all possible foes afloat," proposed Hal, the one who could never see "war" on the horizon. "After a winter on hot sodas, it'll be a relief to know that the druggist put in icecream soda to-day."

So the three boys turned and made their way to the drugstore. While they were exploring with spoons the bottoms of their glasses, the street door opened. Herr Professor Radberg looked in, then came in, beaming condescendingly on the young men.

"Ach! You young men are just the ones I wish to see," he exclaimed, resting one hand on Eph's shoulder, the other on Hal's.

"Lots of folks will pay for that privilege," declared Eph, solemnly.

"Yes? Well, I will pay, too—you shall see. I shall look for you at the hotel, in just one hour. One hour—remember."

"Have you a telescope?" inquired Eph, calmly.

"A telescope. Eh?" inquired the German. "What for?"

"You might need it in looking for us," Eph replied.

"Then, in one hour, I shall see you—at the hotel!"

"You'll be lucky, if you do," grinned Eph.

"Eh? I do not know that I understand," responded Herr Professor Radberg, slowly.

"If you're figuring on seeing us," Eph went on, gravely, "I'm afraid you're in for bad news."

"Bad news? Ach! What do you mean, young man?"

"Just what I said," replied Eph.

Professor Radberg looked so puzzled that Hal Hastings broke in, quietly:

"Professor, unless I'm much in error, you want to see us about a proposition that we enter the German naval service."

"Hush! Not so loud," warned Radberg, looking suspiciously around.

"There's nothing we have to keep quiet about," Hal went on. "You have already spoken to our captain, Jack Benson, about this matter."

"Ach! Yes."

"And Jack has refused."

"Your captain is a fool!" cried the German.

"Then we serve a fool, because he's our captain," retorted Hal, quietly, though there was a flash in his eyes.

"I shall look for you two at the hotel in one hour," declared the German, impressively.

"My friend, Mr. Somers, has already told you that you'll be using your eyesight to poor advantage, then," Hal answered.

"What do you mean?"

"Why, I mean, Professor, that you can't possibly persuade us to go to Germany and tell your people anything that we know about the Pollard submarine boats, or any other type."

"But you shall be well paid!"

"Professor, what would be your price for selling out your country to the
United States?" asked Hal, gazing fixedly at the German.

"You insult me!" cried the German, his face growing red. "I am a patriot."

"Yet, you insult us by thinking that we would sell our country," went on Hal, coolly.

"Are you two going to be as big fools as your captain?" demanded Herr
Professor Radberg, almost incredulously.

"Bigger!" promised Eph, with a grin.

"Ach! Well, we shall talk this all over when you come to the hotel in an hour," replied the German. He turned and left the store.

"Now, I don't doubt," mocked Hal, "he has gone away firm in the belief that we'll keep his appointment."

"He'll wake up after a while," laughed Eph Somers.

After indulging in a second ice cream soda the submarine boys started down the street toward the Farnum shipyard where the Pollard boats were built.

As they passed a street corner they heard a cautious:

"Hss—sst!"

"Now, who threw that our way?" demanded the irrepressible Eph, turning swiftly. Then he added, in a tone so low that only his comrades could hear:

"Say, fellows, I'll bet that cost something!"

"That" was, a rather undersized little man, of perhaps thirty. Dark of hair, and sparkling of eye, the stranger's rather pallid face was partly covered, in front, by a short goatee, of the French "imperial" sort, and a moustache whose points were waxed out in fierce military fashion.

It was the stranger's apparel that had attracted Eph's notice particularly. The stranger was arrayed almost exquisite fashion; his clothes were of finest texture and latest Parisian type. His little, pointed shoes were almost as dainty as a girl's. Though the day was warm the stranger was gloved, and handled a cane in the head of which a handsome amethyst shone.

"I wonder how that got through the custom house?" was Eph Somers's next undertoned question.

"Ah, good morning, gentlemen," greeted the stranger, coming toward them, all smiles and bows. "Av I have not med ze mistake, zen I am address ze torpedo boys."

"Right-o," drawled Eph. "Regular human torpedoes, as touchy as gun-cotton. Why, I am due to explode this moment!"

Though the stranger looked puzzled at first, his face rapidly broke into a cordial smile.

"Oh, ah! I understand. You mek what is call ze American joke, eh? You have little fun wiz me."

The Frenchman, for that he unmistakably was, laughed in the utmost good humor. The boys found themselves much inclined to like this stranger.

"Now, young gentlemen," continued the Frenchman, "I am ze Chevalier
Gari d'Ouray."

"Glad to meet you, Chev," volunteered Eph, with suspicious amiability, holding out his hand, which the Frenchman took daintily. "I'm a 'shoveleer' myself, and this awkward, gawky looking boy with me is our engineer."

Eph had a tight grip on the stranger's hand, by this time, and was surely making it interesting for the Frenchman. The Chevalier d'Ouray was doing his best to retain his politeness, but Somers's hearty grip hurt the foreigner's soft little hand.

"What can we do for you, Chev?" demanded Eph, holding to the Frenchman's hand so persistently that Hastings gave his friend a sharp nudge in the back.

"Let us go somewhere," urged the Frenchman. "Some place were we can sit down and have ze talk about important matters. I have ze message for you zat I cannot deliver upon ze street."

"Now, don't say, please," begged Eph, "that you have heard we are wanted in the French Navy."

The Chevalier d'Ouray looked intensely astonished.

"Parbleu! You are one marvel!" gasped the Frenchman. "You read my most secret thought. But yes! You have made ze one right guess. However, I cannot more say upon ze street. Let us go somewhere."

"All right," nodded Eph. "You go along, now, and we'll be along in an hour."

"Wiz pleasure," nodded the chevalier, eagerly. "But we're shall I go?"

"Anywhere you like," suggested Eph, cordially.

"But, zen, how will you know w'ere I am to be found?"

"Oh, we'll take a chance on that," proposed Eph, carelessly.

"But, unless I am able to say, now, w'ere I shall be—" the Frenchman started to argue.

"We'll guess the meeting place as well as we did your errand," proposed
Eph.

"Ten thousan' thanks!" cried, the chevalier. "Yet, for fear we mek ze one mistek, suppose I say—"

Eph Somers had struck such a streak of "guying" nonsense that Jack Benson felt called upon to interpose, for he and Hal both liked the twinkling eyes and good-humored face of this dandified little Frenchman.

"Pardon me, sir," Jack accordingly broke in, "but, if we happened to guess your errand, it was because we have just gotten away from the agent of another government."

"How? Is zat posseeble?" cried the Chevalier d'Ouray, a disappointed look coming into his face.

"Yes; it's true," nodded Jack.

"But you did not come to any terms wiz him?"

"Oh, no!"

"Ah, zen, ze coast is steel clear," cried the little Frenchman, delightedly. "So, as to w'ere we can meet and mek ze one talk—"

"We can get that all over with, right here," Jack replied. "We can make you the same answer that we gave the other man. We are Americans, and would never think of serving any other flag, even in peace time. Chevalier, I can save your time by telling you that any arrangement to engage our services away from the United States would be utterly hopeless."

"But ze money—" began the Frenchman, protestingly.

"There isn't money enough across the Atlantic to hire us," Jack answered, bluntly.

"And ze honneur—"

"Honor? What would that word afterwards mean to Americans, Chevalier, after they had left their own country to serve another?"

The Chevalier d'Ouray began to look as though he realized he had a harder task before him than he had expected.

"So you see, sir," Jack went on, "it will not be in the least worth your
while to try to tempt us. Come what will or may, we are under the
American flag for life. You yourself, Chevalier, wouldn't leave the
French flag to serve this country, Great Britain or Germany."

"No; but zat is deeferent, for I, monsieur, am French."

"And we are American," Jack responded.

"I will leave you, now, zen, gentlemen," replied the Frenchman, in a tone of disappointment. "But I shall not go away before to-morrow. If you change ze mind—or weesh to hear w'at I have to mek ze offer—"

"Thank you," nodded Jack. "But don't waste any more time on us,
Chevalier. And now—good-bye!"

The Chevalier d'Ouray shook hands with them all most gallantly. Eph felt somewhat ashamed of his late nonsense, and, to prove it, hit the Chevalier d'Ouray a friendly slap on one shoulder that set the Frenchman to coughing.

"Say," muttered Jack, as the three now hurried along the street, "I begin to wish I had a good umbrella."

"Humph! You'd look great with one," retorted Hal. "You, who have stood on the platform deck of a submarine for hours, steering unconcernedly, when the skies were trying to drown you."

"But I feel," remonstrated Jack, "that it's soon going to rain foreign agents. I'd like to get in out of the international wet."

"Oh, we won't see any more of these fellows," smiled Hal.

"Now, there's just where I believe you're wrong, messmate," Jack contended. "These foreign governments hire detectives to watch each other. When we hear from one, we're likely to hear from the whole lot at once. Look around you, Eph. Do you see a Jap anywhere?"

"Not a solitary jiu-jitsu fiend," responded Eph, after halting and staring both ways in turn along the street.

"Well, Japan is about due," laughed Benson. "And now, let's get in through the gate of the shipyard. If any more of these foreign agents show up—well, there are two boats in the harbor that are in commission. We'll find an excuse to put to sea in one of them."

"Just the youngsters I was going out to try to find," hailed Grant Andrews, foreman of the submarine construction work, as he hurried across the yard. "Mr. Farnum told me to get out and find you. He'd have sent some one else, but I guess the business is rather on the quiet."

"Is he in his office?" queried Jack.

"Yes."

"Thank you; we'll go right in, then."

"Now I wonder what country it is whose agent has gotten hold of Mr.
Farnum?" asked Eph, plaintively.

"Nonsense!" mocked Jack.

"That's what we try to tell 'em all," mocked Eph. "But the Germans are the hardest."

All three of the submarine boys were laughing so heartily, as they entered the shipbuilder's private office that Jacob Farnum, a youngish looking man to be at the head of so large a manufacturing plant, glanced up quickly.

"What's the joke, boys?" he asked. "I haven't had a laugh since I pounded my thumbnail with a sledge-hammer."

Captain Jack Benson quickly detailed the meetings with Radberg and d'Ouray.

"The Frenchman didn't look a bit like a 'shovelee' either," muttered
Eph. "If anything, that looked more in the German's line."

"Well, you'll have a chance to get rid of nonsense, now, for a while," went on Mr. Farnum, after having enjoyed a few laughs with the boys. "I've some serious business in hand for you, and the time has come."

That was like the shipbuilder. Whatever he was planning, at any time, he kept strictly to himself until the time came to put the plan into operation.

"There's quite an important little job for you up at Craven's Bay," continued Mr. Farnum. "You know, there are important fortifications there, because the Navy people expect, in wartime, to use Craven's Bay as a possibly important naval station and shelter for vessels that have to put in. Now, for some time the Army engineer officers have been perfecting a system of submarine mines for the bay. The engineers have a problem on hand as to whether an enemy's submarine boats could sneak into the bay and blow up the submarine mines before the Army woke up to the danger."

"There's a chance that that could be done," nodded Jack, musingly.

"Jest so," nodded Mr. Farnum. "So I want you to go up in one of the boats. To-morrow the engineer officers at that station will test it out with you whether a submarine can destroy the mines, or the mines could be made to destroy the submarine boats."

"Then the Army engineer officers will use dummy submarine mines, I hope," broke in Eph.

"Oh, of course," nodded Mr. Farnum. "Now, the trip to Craven's Bay is only an eight-hour sail at a good gait, so you won't really need to start until after dark to-night."

"I believe I'd rather start now, though, and go at less speed," suggested
Jack, thoughtfully.

"That's just as you please, of course," nodded the shipbuilder.

"It will take us out on the water, for one thing," Captain Jack continued, "and we've been growing stale on shore, of late." Then he added, whimsically: "Besides, if the agents of any more foreign governments show up, they won't find us here."

"And there's a Jap just about due now," grimaced Eph.

"Take Williamson with you, for use in the engine room," advised Mr. Farnum. "That will allow you to take the boat through with two watches above and below. Which boat will you take?"

"The 'Spitfire,' unless you'd rather have us take the other one," young
Benson replied.

"Take the 'Spitfire,' by all means," nodded the owner.

Twenty minutes later, Williamson having been found, the crew was all ready for the start for Craven's Bay.

Eph and Williamson cast off from moorings while Hal Hastings, down below at the gasoline motors, started the twin propellers as soon as Jack Benson, at the deck wheel, signaled for speed ahead.

Right after the start, Williamson, a grown man and machinist, dropped below. Eph Somers stood beside the young submarine captain.

For some minutes both boys gazed out over the waters. Then Eph remarked:

"Well, we got away without being overhauled by a Jap or a Russian, didn't we?"

"I don't know," smiled Jack, unsuspectingly. "See that launch over to port? Hanged if she doesn't seem to be putting toward us."

"She does," admitted Eph, solemnly. "Oh, well, with a few more turns of the screw we can easily get away from that launch."

For some moments Captain Jack paid no especial heed to the launch bearing down upon them on the port side. He noted only, at the distance, that the launch contained two men. Presently, however, as the launch came nearer, Captain Benson made a discovery.

"Eph," he gasped, "look over there! Are my eyes going back on me, or is that a Japanese in the bow of the launch?"

"Japanese?" gasped Eph Somers, in turn. "Nothing but!"

Eph made a swift dive for the box that contained the signal flags used in the international marine signaling code. Moving swiftly, young Somers selected the two flags representing "N" and "D." These he strung to the halliard of the short signal mast forward. Nor was he ahead of time, for by this time the launch had described part of a circle, and was coming up alongside.

In the bow of the launch stood the Japanese, smiling, and holding a megaphone in his hand.

"Submarine, a-ho-o-o-oy!" came the hail. "Will you slow down? I have something to say to you."

Up flew the signal flags, fluttering in the breeze. Then Eph snatched up a megaphone, holding the smaller end to his mouth.

"Launch ahoy!" he shouted back. "Just tell your folks that you saw our signal!"

The Japanese read the fluttering flags, then called back:

"N.D.? What does that mean?"

Hoarsely Eph Somers bellowed back:

"Nothing doing!"

CHAPTER III

THE MAN WHO MARKED CHARTS

It was a little before midnight when the "Spitfire" came to anchor in Craven's Bay, after having been piloted to anchorage by a quartermaster's tug that put off from Fort Craven on signal.

"Fine place, if your searchlight is keen enough," yawned Eph, gazing off into the darkness.

Eph and Williamson had slept through the evening, after supper, and were now to take the night watch tricks, the machinist's deck watch beginning at once and lasting until four in the morning.

About an hour after daylight, Eph Somers deserted the deck, except for occasional intervals. After a while the odor of coffee and steak was in the air. Then, snatching up a bugle, Somers sounded the reveille tumultuously through the small cabin of the submarine torpedo boat.

Not long did the other members of the crew take to turn out and dress. They came out into the cabin to find Eph trotting between table and galley, putting things on the table.

"This seems like old times," chuckled Williamson, as he seated himself with the boys.

"Yes; because you don't have to cook," grimaced Eph. "Wait until after breakfast, when you have to clear away and wash dishes!"

"Even so, I have the best of it," laughed the machinist, good-humoredly.
"I have something in my stomach to work on."

"I always do get the tough end of any job, don't I?" grumbled Eph, resignedly, then buried his troubles under a plateful of steak and fried potatoes.

"You hoisted the signal, 'N.D.', yesterday afternoon," laughed Captain Jack, laying down his coffee cup. "If you don't watch out, Eph, I'll hoist the 'N.G.' flag over this table."

"Breakfast no good?" demanded Eph, looking much offended.

"No; 'N.G.' will stand for 'no grouch.'"

Somers joined heartily in the laugh that followed.

Just as they were finishing a really good meal, for which every breakfaster had a royal, salt-water appetite, a steamer's whistle was heard, not far off to port.

"I'll bet that's the Army tug!" muttered Captain Jack, rising hastily from the table. "Tell you what, fellows, we've got to begin to have something like Navy discipline aboard this craft. In that case, we'd have had breakfast over an hour ago."

Jack was off up the steps as though pursued. Eph went after him as soon as that youth with the sun-kissed hair had time to pull on his visored cap and button his blouse. No matter what the need of haste, Somers never appeared on deck looking less natty than a veteran naval officer.