"But I'm younger than you by almost twenty years, sir," protested the first officer.

"Oh, no you're not," laughed the commander of the Ventura, "you just think you are. I've grown twenty years younger this day."

He summoned a pair of sailors, whom he loaded down with the gas, hose and pump with instructions to place them carefully in the small boat.

"And now for the submarine," he confided to his first officer.

On deck, half a dozen passengers approached the captain with inquiries as to what was going on.

"Why," he said with a grin, "we're just going to capture a submarine, that's all. Stick close to the side of the ship and you'll see how it's done. A lesson like this may come in handy some day."

The passengers protested.

"But the danger--" one began.

"Danger be hanged," said the captain. "There is no danger. While there was danger we were scuttling for the safety of land and now we come back when it's all over. You should all be glad of this opportunity to render your country a service. What sort of citizens are you, anyhow?"

Without further words he climbed down to the launch and was hustled back to the submarine, where Jack and the others were awaiting him eagerly.

"Well," said Captain Griswold, motioning to the articles that the sailors laid on the deck, "here's the stuff. Get busy."

"How do you work it, Captain?" asked Jack.

"Don't you know?" demanded Captain Griswold. "Well, I'll tell you what.

You just put me in command here for fifteen minutes and I'll do the job for you."

"All right, sir," said Jack. "Your commands shall be obeyed."

Captain Griswold turned to the nearest sailor.

"Take that hose and attach it to the nozzle on the tank," he directed.

The sailor did so.

"Now the pump," said the captain, "you will find a place for it on the other side of the tank."

This was adjusted to the captain's satisfaction.

"Now," said the captain, "all you have to do is to stick this nozzle down the conning tower, turn it so as to give the gas full play and pump. Of course the gas would carry without the pump, but you save time this way."

"One moment, Captain," said Jack. "How about ourselves? Won't the gas affect us as well as the Germans?"

Captain Griswold clapped a hand to his side.

"Now what do you think of that?" he demanded. "I must be getting old before my time. Here, Lands," he called one of his own men, who approached. "Go and tell Helgoson I want two dozen of those gas masks in the store room; and hustle."

The sailor hurried away. He was back within fifteen minutes, and Captain Griswold distributed the gas masks. Then he took the nozzle of the hose, poked it down the conning tower and looked around.

"Everybody ready?" he asked.

Jack also glanced around. Every man on the deck of the submarine wore a gas mask.

"All right, sir," said Jack.

"Then you turn that screw there when I give the word. All right? Then shoot!"

There was a hissing sound as Jack turned on the gas.

For perhaps ten minutes Captain Griswold moved the hose to and fro. Then he pulled it forth and motioned Jack to turn the screw again. This the lad did. Captain Griswold then motioned the others to follow him, and led the way below.

At the foot of the conning tower they stumbled across several figures, overcome by the fumes. These were quickly bound and passed up on deck to the men who remained behind.

The search of the submarine took perhaps half an hour. Every nook and cranny was explored. The gas had done its work well. Apparently it had poured in so rapidly that the crew had had no time to open the portholes, for they were all closed. Captain Griswold opened them now.

Then he led the way on deck, and closing the conning tower, removed his gas mask. The others followed his example.

"Simple, wasn't it?" said the captain of the Ventura to Jack, grinning like a boy. "Lucky I happened to come back."

"It is indeed," said Jack. "But won't this gas affect us, Captain?"

"Not out here," was the reply. "It's not strong enough. You can barely smell it now. Now what are you going to do with the submarine?"

Jack considered a moment.

"I'll tell you Captain," he said, "it strikes me that this submarine is really the prize of the Ventura. At all events, I cannot be bothered with it, for there is still patrol work to do in these waters. Can't you tow her into port?"

"Can't I?" shouted Captain Griswold. "You bet I can. You give the word and I'll tie her on behind right now."

"All right, Captain," said Jack. "She's yours."

Captain Griswold almost danced a jig there on the deck of the German submarine.

"Won't New York sit up and take notice when old Captain Griswold comes into port towing a submarine?" he chortled. "Well, I guess. Here, Lands, go back to the ship and throw me a line. Then come back and help make it fast."

This was accomplished with astonishing rapidity and amid the cheering of the crew and passengers of the Ventura and the wild hurrahs of the British tars of the Essex.

"Well, she's all fixed," said Captain Griswold, "and to tell you the truth I'm rather sorry. Of course I'm old and all that, but just the same I'd like to go with you fellows."

"You're doing your share, Captain," said Jack seriously. "All of us can't do the fighting, you know. But there's work just as important, and you are doing your part. But we must be moving now. We've wasted time enough."

"So we have," declared Captain Griswold. "Shall you leave us here, sir?"

"No," said Jack, "we'll follow and see you safely in harbor."

"Very well. Then I shall return to the Ventura."

"And I to the Essex, Captain. Good-bye and good luck to you."

Captain Griswold shook hands heartily with Jack, and then insisted on shaking hands as well with Frank, and every officer and member of the British crew aboard the submarine. Then he put off for his ship.