While the ensign and Mr. Grant chatted, they watched the youngsters with interest. When Donald had carried them off to show them the _Brigand_ from stem to stern, as he expressed it, Mr. Grant laid down his cigar and, turning to the ensign, said, with his customary abruptness:

"Could you use another Boy Scout on this work?"

"Well--I--really, I've hardly considered it," was the astonished rejoinder.

"If you could, I have one for you."

"You mean your son Donald?"

"Yes. He is a manly, fine lad, but he has been a little bit coddled by his mother and sisters. Now he and these other boys appear to get along famously, and they are just the sort of lads I should like my boy to a.s.sociate with."

The naval officer nodded.

"I never saw or heard of such another lot of lads as those comprising the Eagle Patrol," he said with emphasis; "although, of course," he continued, "there are probably many such enrolled in the ranks of the Boy Scouts."

"I don't doubt it. Donald is a different lad already since he joined the Wolf Patrol. Now this cruise of mine will be dull at best to the lad.

You see I am combining business with pleasure, and he will be thrown much on his own resources. He has seen the West Indies before, so there would not be much that is novel to him in the scenery or the people.

What do you say to my proposal?"

Cigar in hand, the great man of Wall Street paused for an answer, knitting his famous black eyebrows as he did so.

"Why, if Donald is anxious to go, I don't see why it could not be arranged," was the ensign's reply; "but why not ask the lad himself?"

"And your boys, too, of course," was the rejoinder; "they might object to adding an outsider to their number."

"Not much fear of that," smiled the officer; "why, you would think they had been lifelong friends. Hark at that!"

A merry peal of laughter came ringing from somewhere about the ship.

At this juncture, a young man in a natty uniform came hastening up. He bore a slip of yellow paper which he respectfully handed to the Wall Street magnate.

"Ah, Collins,--Mr. Hargreaves, this is our wireless operator."

The ensign nodded while Mr. Grant gazed over the message.

"So you picked her up, eh, Collins?" he said, handing the message he had just perused over to the ensign.

"Yes, sir. It appears that after missing the derelict in the fog the _Seneca_ cruised in circles looking for her. She is now within ten miles of us."

"So I see by this message," struck in the ensign; "we are fortunate not to have drifted further."

"What do you wish to do?" inquired Mr. Grant.

"Naturally, to be transferred to my own ship, if you will be so kind."

Mr. Grant nodded.

"Collins, get our exact position from the captain, signal it to the _Seneca_, and tell her we will lay off and on here till she arrives."

"Very well, sir," said the man of the wireless, with a bow.

He had hardly withdrawn when the boys came up, fresh from their inspection of the _Brigand_. All were loud in praise of the craft, especially Rob and Merritt.

"Would you rather cruise on this craft or go on the duty for Uncle Sam which lies before you?" asked Mr. Grant quizzically.

The Boy Scouts drew themselves up.

"Why, sir, our duty to our country comes before pleasure," declared Rob, acting as spokesman. "Cruising about is all right, but we Boy Scouts like to be doing something useful for somebody else, but most of all for Uncle Sam."

Rob paused, rather alarmed at his temerity at thus addressing one of the richest men in the world.

"So you think I am wasting my time cruising, eh?" said Mr. Grant amusedly glancing at the upright, slender boy before him from under his heavy brows.

It was impossible to tell whether he was displeased or not. But Rob decided not to recede from his position. He knew that the Boy Scouts were supposed to be manly, self-reliant, and upright under all conditions. So putting his fears of offending the man before him aside, he spoke up boldly:

"It's different for you, sir. Your life work has raised your monument; but I think, and I guess my Patrol agrees with me, that it is better for boys to be on active duty and," he added, his eyes flashing and his cheeks glowing, "especially such service as we are now going on.

It's--it's glorious," he concluded breathlessly.

"I think you are quite right, my boy," was the magnate's reply, a very different one from the rejoinder Rob had dreaded.

"I hope you don't think me presumptuous or impudent," replied Rob, "but you asked my opinion, and you know, sir, we Boy Scouts must always tell the truth. Perhaps it seems a poor return after you saved our lives, to----"

But Mr. Grant cut the boy short with a wave of the hand.

"Nonsense, all I did was to stand by and watch. If Donald had not understood those smoke signals, you might not be on earth now. But in return, I want to ask you to do something for him."

Rob nodded respectfully but said nothing. He wondered greatly what could be coming next.

"I want you to take Donald with you on this duty for Uncle Sam. The ensign here has agreed. Are you willing to make my son one of your party?"

"Are we willing?" stammered out Rob. "Why, sir, we've just been discussing what a shame it was that he had to go on a stupid old cruise--I beg your pardon, on a cruise--when real work lay ahead, and----"

But Donald had danced up to his father cheering and throwing his hat in the air. Then he rushed up to his newly-found comrades and a hand-shaking and "bear hugging" match ensued, such as is rarely seen except among lads who are real companions, bound together by a common bond.

Suddenly above the tumult Rob's voice sounded.

"Boys, let's give the cry of the Wolf Patrol!"

Instantly savage growls resounded, and after that the Eagles joined hands, formed a circle about Donald, and danced a sort of war dance of joy, concluding with the screaming cry of their Patrol.

Mr. Grant and Ensign Hargreaves smilingly watched this scene.

When something like order had been restored, the latter announced the closeness of the _Seneca_.

This, too, was greeted with a cheer, which was cut short by the reappearance of Collins.

"I've been talking with the _Seneca_, sir, and he says that they are proceeding here at full speed."

"Good. That will do, unless you have any communications to make," said Mr. Grant, turning to the ensign.